The Spark
by Daisy3D
Summary: In a world where the people of Panem were at once able to move districts, Katniss sparks the possibility of rebellion after winning the 74th Hunger Games. Threatened with the lives of her family, she tries to quench the flames during her Victory Tour. While in District Eight, Katniss is reunited with someone from her past who sparks a whole new challenge for the Mockingjay.
1. Peeta

**Disclaimer** : I do not own The Hunger Games.

The Spark of the Lone Victor

 _Upon volunteering, her life flashed before her eyes. Before she knew it she was a victor. Katniss thought that her life was over, even after returning home._

 _But then she found a spark._

 **Peeta**

Until the spring before the 70th Hunger Games, people were allowed to apply for a transfer from their home District to another. The application was agonizing, the process strenuous. Some time after the Dark Days had passed, as a pathetic excuse to try and "show" the people of the Districts that they'd regained some of the Capitol's trust back, it was decreed that us citizens of the twelve Districts would be able to do so. The catch was that it was rare that anyone was ever approved.

My mother had talked of wanting to get transferred before even my eldest brother was born. She was convinced that our talents would be better suited in a much wealthier District. That we could be much better off. My father did not take her seriously at first, because many people of Twelve said that when they were young and unhappy with Twelve's conditions and treatment by the Capitol.

It wasn't until I was eight years old that my mother entered the bakery squealing because the application she'd send in almost a decade ago-by secret-approved us for a background check after the application was deemed fit for the criteria. My father was in shock. My brothers were excited. I was heartbroken. When rumour got out that we had filed applications to leave, my family's bakery lost a nice amount of business.

By then, we humored her by doing the rest of what the Capitol asked of us. We didn't think that we would get the final approval. In fact, no one in the District did. My mother couldn't keep a secret to save her life. No gossip could escape her, even her own.

When I was eleven-years-old, we got the final notice that we'd been approved. My mother was ecstatic. I thought it was a fraud. But nevertheless, three months later, we were on our way to District Eight.

My mother's reason for our transfer was that business was declining because of the poverty in the District and wished to find better sales somewhere else. I'm still shocked to this day that the Capitol allowed us to leave on that plea. We were the last family in the history of District Twelve to move Districts.

The year I turned twelve, they eliminated the program. The Capitol's excuse was that it was not successful and there were hardly ever any applicants. They announced that they would no longer be accepting applications and that the ones that were currently pending would be terminated. I'm not a fool though, I knew that it was really because the people of the Districts had started to become restless and the threat of rebellion grew too much for their liking.

I wouldn't have minded the move had it not been for one thing. Or rather, one person. I'd been in love with a girl. Her name was Katniss Everdeen, and she had the most lovely voice that only her father could challenge. I had my eyes on her since our very first day of school, and for some reason she stayed nestled in my heart through all of the time that passed.

When it was certain that I'd be moving, I made it my goal to have at least one interaction with her. Right before I left, three months after her father had been killed in the mines that past January, I completed my goal. She'd been scavenging for scraps of food to bring home to her family. My mother yelled at her, awful words that I could never repeat. When I saw it was her, my heart broke. I had nothing to lose at that point. I would be leaving before I knew it. I didn't hesitate to drop the loaves of bread in the fire with the image of her sunken eyes in my own. And my mother didn't hesitate to hit me with a rolling pin when she'd realized what I'd done.

I knew she was going to make me give it to the pigs, my brothers had done the exact thing in the past, though on accident. This was my first ever "mistake" in the kitchens. I'd torn off the smallest piece to toss the pigs from the first loaf. Thankfully, someone entered the bakery after that moment, and I made the decision to go out in the rain and hand her the loaves myself. At first, she did nothing when I stood before her with the loaves burning my skin. Seconds passed before she realized what I was doing and she carefully grabbed the loaves from my own hands. She didn't even wince at the heat. As a thank you, she kissed me on my cheek before scurrying away into the cold night. In that moment, I was both the happiest and most heartbroken boy in Panem.

The next day, when we were leaving school, I was watching her. I'd noticed that day that she walked with more purpose. I was trying to figure out what was different. Then she turned and caught my eyes. I quickly turned away, hoping that she wouldn't realize that I was staring at her. Oddly enough, I was the one who often caught her staring at me after that.

Months later, it was time for us to leave the District. My brothers and I had completed out last school year in Twelve and there was nothing left to hold us back. The night before our departure, I snuck out late in the night and dropped off three loaves of perfectly baked raisin nut bread inside the Everdeen's window. I never got to say goodbye. I was angry with myself. I'd never gotten the courage to speak to her even once. I was never going to know how she sounded when speaking to me directly. I was crushed. Why did I have to be such a coward?

District Eight turned out to be much different from Twelve. Though my mother was right and business was slightly better, the District's atmosphere was much worse than Twelve's. Everyone was solemn and the District seemed to always be on watch. After some time, I realized that the people were much more restless than the people back home. Public floggings were a thing and very frequent. The people kept to themselves though were very close and not afraid to stand up for one another. The Peacekeepers were an entirely new level of strict.

The bakery's prices went up and Peacekeepers were frequent customers. Business was overall better here and pleased my mother very much. My father grew reclusive. I worked the cash register and often gave discounts to those who couldn't afford our prices. My mom said nothing as long as we had customers. Through my position, I grew a bond with the people.

To my surprise, it didn't take long for me to adjust to the life in District Eight. My brothers and I fit ourselves in with the others without a problem. They were cautious at first, but didn't take long to accept us. My mother was happier than I'd ever seen her, it was a miracle. My father was seemingly happier too, but I could tell that he was more reclusive than he was in Twelve. He endured it for the simple fact that she never snapped at him or tried to start fights. My family had hope that everything would be better.

A District without Katniss Everdeen would never be special to me though.

By the time my first Reaping arrived I was a nervous wreck. I was convinced that my name would be pulled from the large glass bowl at the hands of Grella Tullavet, our District's escort. I was also convinced that if it wasn't me, it would be one of my two brothers. It wasn't. And as the next three years passed and my eldest brother aged out of the Reaping, it continued to not be us.

Today was the day of my fifth Reaping. I am sixteen years old. My eldest brother has been out of the drawing for two years now, and it is my middle brother's last year. My mother let us eat fresh bread for breakfast this morning, along with some tea. She's done that on the morning of each Reaping since we moved here. One of the catches to moving was that all children of the applicants that were of Reaping age would be forced to have their names entered two extra times per year without compensation. My mother couldn't have cared less but that was always my father's biggest complaint against it. I had three my first year. I have fifteen now. My mother thought it was a small price to pay.

Now, as I stand in the clump of boys my age, my hands are twitching as we wait for the female tribute to be chosen. I look behind me in the group of eighteen-year-olds to try and find my brother, but I'm unsuccessful in finding him. I've had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach from the moment I woke up. How many times is my brother's name in today? Will today finally be the day that I am reaped? I can't escape the nagging feeling that something would be different this time around. I probably just feel more afraid now that it's Rye's final year.

My attention returns to the Reaping just as our escort calls out the name of the female tribute. Millicent Arbour. The name doesn't sound familiar, so I look over the girls to see who it is. She emerges from the clump of thirteen-year-olds, and my brow furrows. She looks healthy enough to have never taken any tesserae. Had they really chosen one of two little slips with her name on it out of the thousands in there?

The girl takes her place on the stage, her jaw clenched. She shows no motion on her face, but her eyes are are afraid and full of tears. Her body trembles slightly.

Our escort doesn't acknowledge her as soon as she sees that Millicent isn't very big. She's already on her way to the boys' bowl. My fists clench. I feel sweat start to gather at my temples. I hope that a Mellark is not called to the stage.

I'm lightheaded as the escort unfolds the paper. "Cordis Tan," she calls out, looking over to the boys with a light in her eyes. I finally breathe. But I feel guilty as soon as I do. A young, but tall boy some rows behind me makes his way to the stage. He's almost as tall as me and very lean. I'm disgusted in myself for being happy.

Our mayor reads out the Treaty of Treason before asking them to shake hands. They do so cautiously before turning themselves in to the Justice Building.

Everyone starts to file out of the Square, only a few rush towards the Building. I find my brother immediately.

"Peet, you're sweating," my brother laughs before throwing his arm around me and laughing heartily. I can hear the nerves trickling out of him as he laughs.

I smile tightly, "My name was in the bowl fifteen times. Yours was in there nineteen times. I was nervous."

"Well, it was all good little brother. You have two years left, and I'm done!" he pumps his fists in the air and laughs jovially. "I'm done!"

We find our father, who hugs us both tightly. "My boys," he breathes out quiet enough that I could have missed it.

"We're alright, dad," I say. He's always so nervous. With each passing year, it becomes an increasingly higher risk. He's never forgiven himself for allowing us to enter our names in extra times to make my mother happy. "We're alright."

"And I'm officially out!" my brother says again. "Now we just need to wait for Peet and then we're all good."

My dad smiles. "Two more years and then we're all clear."

"That is until you've got grandkids," my brother says stupidly. My father's face falls immediately.

"But their odds will be so much better than ours father, they'll have been born here." I reassure him. "They will never need to add their names in extra times. And we've done perfectly fine with our extras."

My dad sighs and hugs me tightly. "You're right, son."

When we arrive at the bakery, our mother is already there. She wanted to get back before we did in case any customers came. None did. "Boys!" She trills in a fake voice.

"Hello, mother," my brother says before dodging her and making his way upstairs.

"Safe another year? Must be the luck of being here," she says as she wipes the register. My mother had long put Twelve behind her.

I roll my eyes. "Even with my name being entered five extra times just for being here."

"Peeta!" I jump. "You should be grateful we're here. Not everyone gets approved, and we did."

"Sorry, mother," I say. "I'm very grateful."

She nods curtly. "Business has been so much better since we moved. We're well off here. I'm sure you'll find a more suitable wife as well. Bran found a nice girl with whom he's been with for a couple years now and Rye has many suitors. I'm sure you have some too."

I force a smile. "Yes, mother."

She dismisses me and I make my way to my room to change out of my Reaping clothes. Rye's already making his way down. "I've got tons of girls." He whispers while he passes me, wiggling his eyebrows. I shove him.

When I get back downstairs, my mother sends me to the back to bake with my father. Bran usually mans the register between helping out in the back, and Rye cleans since he burns everything he touches.

We close the bakery early on Reaping day every year because business is always slow this day. Aside from the people who buy treats for their family immediately after the Reaping for being safe another year, there are few customers.

After we're done cleaning, and my mother gives us her approval, we're free to go.

I glance at the clock and note that it's almost eight. That's when the recaps begin. My mother and father retire to their room, and Bran goes to his home he shares with his wife. Rye retreats to his own room as well. I situate myself in the living room with a quilt, some tea, and stale bread that we were bound to have thrown away soon anyway.

The two from District One look promising. The girl, Glimmer, happily volunteers herself. The boy, Marvel, volunteers as well. They make a charming duo, her waving incessantly and him smirking throughout the rest of the ceremony.

In District Two, no one stops the brooding boy who volunteers. His name is Cato, and I can tell he's going to be the favorite of the year. The girl, Clove, doesn't need to fight for her spot either. When she gets to the stage, her and Cato smile at each other mischievously. The commentators go wild for them.

District Three clearly disappoints them after seeing the promising first four. The two that are Reaped are meek and small, almost lifeless as if they've already surrendered themselves to their death.

When the boy from District Four is called, the commentators howl and are highly shocked when no one more "worthy" volunteers. The girl lifts their spirits some, but they're still not entirely pleased.

The girl from District five catches my eye because of her red hair. I've never seen someone have such naturally vibrant hair. How is it even possible? Her name is Finch, and it makes me smile some. The birds are songbirds known to have colorful plumage. The boy seems very paranoid and the commentators erupt into laughter talking about how he could become the next Titus.

Districts Six and Seven are uneventful. The escorts are both terrible in their attempts to be enthusiastic.

When District Eight takes over, I shudder. I don't want to experience my Reaping again. My heart aches for Millicent and Cordis. It turns out that they're thirteen and seventeen.

District Nine and District Ten are even more dreadful than Six and Seven. The commentators let each other take naps. I feel sorry for the boy from Ten, he's got a bad leg. Who knows how far he'll make it. It'll no doubt be a big disadvantage.

When the little girl is called from District Eleven, there are some unhappy murmurs. Despite that, when the escort asks for volunteers, no one is willing to step forward. Little Rue will have to go into the arena. The commentators shame the people of District Eleven for not volunteering. I'm almost shocked at the words before they add that having a little twelve year old won't make it as exciting. Those people could never have a heart. When they call Thresh, the male tribute, excited clapping comes from multiple commentators. "He's a good one, an excellent specimen for the Games."

My heart churns when District Twelve is introduced. Two of the three chairs are occupied by Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket, Twelve's escort. The empty seat is no doubt meant for the District's only living victor, Haymitch Abernathy.

When the clock strikes two, the mayor walks up to the podium and recites the same exact words he did when I attended Rye and Bran's Reapings. When he's finished listing the Districts passed victors, Haymitch Abernathy conveniently appears onstage. He's hollering unintelligible words, and takes his seat beside Effie Trinket. The crowd applauds lightly at his arrival. He attempts to give Effie a hug, which she rejects. The commentators are laughing. The mayor introduces Effie and she rushes to take his place at the podium.

As Mayor Undersee regains his seat and the people of Twelve applaud his speech and welcome Effie, she is quick to take the attention back from Haymitch. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" She rambles about the honor of being an escort and the glory of the Capitol. When she's satisfied with the attention and her words, she announces it's time for the drawing. "Ladies first!"

Effie wastes no time walking over to the girls' bowl, sticking her hand deep into the ball before pulling out a strip of paper. The only sound that can be heard is her heels hitting the pavement with each step closer to the podium.

I'm trembling slightly as I repeat Not Katniss over and over and over again in my head. She swiftly unfolds the paper and smoothes it out carefully. Bringing her mouth a bit closer to the microphone, she smiles at the camera before calling out the name. It's not Katniss. "Primrose Everdeen."

I stand up in horror. Is that possible? I do the math in my head and my lips tremble as I realize Prim is now twelve-years-old. That makes her eligible for the reaping. How had I forgotten? Damn it, how had I forgotten? There's no way Katniss would have ever let her take tesserae from the Capitol. How was her singular slip chosen out of the thousands?

There are sounds of disagreement picked up by the camera and the commentators ask in hushed voices why they think that is. The camera finally finds her. She's tiny, slim. Her pale skin lighter than mine, her blue eyes filled with tears are clear and the color of the sky. She's walking stiffly, the blood drained from her face. Her fists are clenched tightly at her side.

"Prim!" a strangled voice cries. I stop breathing. "Prim!"

Katniss is found on the camera as those in front of her clear a path and she makes her way straight to her sister. She reaches Prim just before she mounts the stairs, and Katniss pushes her behind her. "I volunteer!" she yells to the stage. "I volunteer as tribute!"

The camera pans over to the confused people onstage. The commentators try to choke out some jokes, but they are obviously moved by the actions that have just taken place in District Twelve.

"Lovely!" Effie Trinket says. "But I believe there's a small matter of introducing the reaping winner and then asking for volunteers, and if one does come forth then we, um. . ." she trails off, unsure. The District hasn't had a volunteer in decades.

"What does it matter?" the mayor says. When the camera finds him again, he looks disheartened. Does he recognize the girls from when their father died and he presented Katniss with a medal of valor? "What does it matter?" he repeats. "Let her come forward."

Prim is heard screaming hysterically as the camera goes back to the girls. "No, Katniss! No! You can't go!"

"Prim, let go," she says harshly. "Let go!"

I watch as a boy picks Prim up and she thrashes in his arms. He mumbles something to Katniss that the microphones don't pick up, and she nods before turning around and making her way up the stairs. The camera follows them as they go to a woman I recognize as Katniss' mother. Prim runs to her, sobbing. Mrs. Everdeen holds her tight and thanks the boy before turning back to her eldest daughter.

"Well, bravo!" Effie is heard saying. "That's the spirit of the Games!" She smiles wide before turning to Katniss. "What's your name?"

Katniss falters a bit, turning to face Effie. "Katniss Everdeen."

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round round of applause to our newest tribute!" Effie gushes.

No one claps. The camera focuses on the crowds. Silence fills the air. Then I watch as one, then another, and then almost every person in the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and hold it out to her. And though I am all alone and the events that have just unraveled before me happened hours ago, I do the same. I remember it as an old and rare gesture of my old District. It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love. Tears slip my eyes as I watch the District that has grown to care so much for Katniss.

Haymitch Abernathy stands and crosses the stage to Katniss. "Look at her. Look at this one!" he then throws his arm around her shoulders as she looks at him in horror. "I like her! Lots of. . . spunk!" he bellows. "More than you!" he points directly to the camera. I gasp. He can't possibly be taunting the Capitol. "More than you!"

Then we all watch as he plummets the stage and knocks himself unconscious. When the camera goes back to Katniss, her face has hardened and she's placed her hands behind her back.

A stretcher comes for Haymitch. The commentators are crying of laughter as they talk about how this reaping alone has been more eventful than every other one of the District combined.

"What an exciting day!" Effie says, drawing the attention back to her. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!"

Effie walks to the boys' ball and grabs the first slip her hand touches. She rushes back to the podium. I don't recognize the name she calls out. A boy from the Seam is found and he solemnly makes his way to the stage. He appears a bit younger than Katniss and looks more malnourished than she. Effie excitedly calls for volunteers, but is disappointed when none come forth.

The mayor takes the podium as Effie sits back down and he begins to read the Treaty of Treason.

My mind was reeling. Katniss, Katniss Everdeen, was going into The Hunger Games. She was going to be thrown into an arena with twenty-three other people trying to kill her. I felt like I was going to faint.

I hear steps pounding down the stairs. "Peeta!" When Rye comes into view, I don't say a word. I'm afraid I'll cry if I so much as open my mouth.

"Did you see the recap of the reapings?" he asks before entering the living room and seeing the screen. "Oh."

"Yeah," I manage to whisper.

My brother looks at me sadly. "I'm sorry."

I shake my head. My brother was the only one who ever knew about my crush on Katniss. "There's nothing that can be done."

Rye hugs me. He actually hugs me. "It's going to be okay."

"Don't lie to me," I say hastily. Rye pulls back.

"She looked healthy. Strong," he says. "The entire District gave her the salute. She's got people on her side."

I see the honesty in his eyes. "She did look so much better than when we were there."

Rye smiles. "See? There's hope. Have hope. From now on, all we can do is cheer her on. The others? They have nothing against her. My bet is on her."

When my brother reaches out to me, I accept his embrace without hesitation and hug him tighter than I ever have before.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Oh, hey! Nice to see your lovely face down here, it means you took the time out of your day to read my writing. It also means that I now love you. Love aside, I want to thank you for reading this. I've always wondered what it would have been like had Peeta and Katniss never been reaped and tossed into The Hunger Games together. If you're reading this, then the idea of it intrigued you too, and I'd like to say that I like how your brain works. This is my take on how one of those scenarios could have turned out. Out of all the stories I've written and ideas I've had (dozens), this is one that I've been the most passionate about. I hope you all continue to follow this story, I've got about five additional chapters I'm reading over and perfecting to add onto this story in the weeks to come and I hope to write around twenty. It's a little project I'm working on alongside Silver Songbird. I guess I'll go now, you've probably stopped reading now anyway lol. Buuuut if you haven't, I hope you don't mind making my day by following this story! Or if you're feeling a little adventurous, there's a dandy little button near the follow that says favorite and would make me over the moon. But no pressure! None at all! (;_

With love, Daisy


	2. Twelve

**Peeta**

After Katniss became a tribute, I began putting away even more of my money than I did before. I made bets. I watched Katniss shine night after night.

At the Tribute Parade, I swore I'd never seen anything more beautiful. The nights anticipating the training scores were agonizing. When I saw that eleven flash across the screen, tears of joy fell from my eyes, and I knew that she would be coming home. The night of the interviews, I couldn't have even begun to dream of how stunning she would look. She was gorgeous, she was aloof, she was show-stopping. When Caesar asked her who the boy was that took her sister to her mother, she told him that it was her best friend Gale. I couldn't help my jealousy. My jealousy, though, was short-lived after seeing Katniss' horrified look as he teased her about him being more than a friend. That had to hurt.

The television was my lifeline after the Games began. I watched her take a knife to her left arm for a bow and arrows. Her cry was heart-wrenching. When we were at school and they'd make announcements concerning the Games, I always held my breath. I always braced myself to hear that Katniss Everdeen had fallen.

It was a Thursday when four tributes remained. The first to go was Thresh. Cato had gotten him, and quite gruesomely. Then went Finch; she accidentally ate poisonous berries out of desperation because of how starved she was. It was down to Katniss and Cato.

No one anticipated the Mutts that night.

I had never seen eyes more haunted than when Katniss realized how similar they were to the fallen tributes. But the final battle was what truly haunted _me_.

Katniss was out in the open near the cornucopia. When the mutts were released, she had no option to go but up the cornucopia. She knew that she needed high ground. Cato was up there with her not even five minutes later. He was injured from his brawl with Thresh, but even in that condition he was still physically stronger. Cato immediately lunged for her. Katniss managed to dodge him a few times, but he eventually had her pinned by the neck. I thought it was going to be over. Then, as she began to look like she was going to lose consciousness, Katniss pulled a knife from her waistband and slit his throat. The wind was knocked from Katniss when Cato landed on top of her. Tears rolled down her cheeks as all of Panem heard the muffled sobs that escaped her lips. She held eye contact with him until he mouthed words I wasn't able to distinguish. With all of her might, she pushed him off of her and to the ground beneath the cornucopia. The mutts finished him off.

At the sound of the canon, the mutts retreated and Cato's body was collected. Her eyes were wild, still looking out for signs of danger. When they finally announced her the victor of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games, I don't know who cried more. Her or me.

The crowds then shown in the Districts were wild. District Twelve was celebrating fiercely, many with tears on their cheeks. The poorer Districts were cheering loud and proud, especially Rue's Eleven. The Career Districts were saddened, but still proud a strong victor was crowned.

It took two weeks for her to be unveiled at her ceremony in the Capitol. I could tell something was different about her as soon as she was lifted up to the stage. It wasn't until I noticed how often she crossed her arms in front of her chest that I realized what they'd done. They'd altered her body. My blood boiled.

Katniss was shy and reserved throughout the entire show. I watched it for the hours it was on. My mother hit me, but I didn't care. Katniss was more important.

My breath caught in my throat when Katniss made Caesar Flickerman stumble at her mocking of the Capitol. "It's such a shame. Such a shame that so many innocent lives had to be lost for something they had no say in. Those children, they had futures. In a second that potential was stripped from them." The tension radiated through the screen as Caesar tried to recover. I was relieved when he was able to change direction in the show and keep it that way. Katniss didn't argue.

At the very end, Caesar asked her if she planned to find a boyfriend when she returned home. She laughed genuinely for the first time that night. "There's no one for me in Twelve."

The next day, I got a letter in the mail thanking me for my contributions as a sponsor for the crowned victor. In it was a discount to the Victory Tour ceremony that was to be held here in six months. There was no way I wasn't going. I was going to be on that guest list.

My reservation was bought no more than a month later.

 **Katniss**

I stare at the floorboards of the Hob. The old wood creaked every few steps, the sound soothingly familiar. My father and I used to have a game where we would try and see who could take the least creaky steps. I never got the chance to win. A tear threatens to surface at the bittersweet memory and I quickly wipe my eyes with the sleeves of my shirt.

"Everdeen?" Ripper's voice pierces through my thoughts. My head snaps up to meet her old gray eyes. "That'll be forty-five."

I force a smile before slapping down the amount on her counter and taking the three bottles of spirits. Haymitch was going to need it. We start my Victory Tour today. He's been grumbling about it for weeks. When we get back, he's going to need a bit extra in his stash. Plus it's the best sorry I could think of. We were both going to be stuck with Effie for weeks.

As I pass the entrance to the Seam, I see a familiar lean physique and dark hair. "Rory!"

He visibly stiffens at the sound of my voice and it makes me cringe. We haven't spoken in a few weeks. He turns on his heel and relaxes a bit. "Katniss."

I jog up to meet him and am a bit stunned at how I have to look up to face him now. "Hi," I say awkwardly.

Rory smirks, a quirk he must have gotten from his older brother. "We're going to go say goodbye later. Before your Tour."

"Really?" I ask, my tone obviously excited. Rory's brows furrow a bit.

"Yeah. Of course, Katniss." he says. We're silent for a long time before he quietly adds, "I'll check on your family while you're gone."

My heart churns at his words. I put a hand on his arm and squeeze gently. Rory has always been so sweet. "Thank you."

Rory simply nods, a bit uncomfortable at my proximity. "They're like my family too."

"I'll see you at the train station." I say. Rory waves, and I begin my walk to the Victor's Village.

My nose immediately scrunches up as soon as I enter Haymitch's house. The smell of liquor will forever haunt these walls, even long after he's dead.

I find my mentor asleep at his dining room table. Without much thought, I dump a pitcher of ice cold water on his head to wake him. He doesn't respond kindly, and I narrowly miss his swinging knife.

"Of all the victors I could've gotten," he grumbles, pushing the hair out of his face.

My eyes narrow. I place the spirits on his table and watch as his eyes light up. "I'm what you only could've dreamed of."

Haymitch guffaws before reaching for the bottles. I snag them away. "Hey!"

"They're for after the Tour," I say. "I'm sure you'll have an endless supply on the train."

Haymitch shakes his head, nodding to the bottles. "But this is home."

I don't say another word, understanding what he means entirely. As good as anything from the Capitol may be, District Twelve and everything here is home.

"Now go get dolled up, sweetheart." Haymitch says, his tone soft.

I decide against any arguing and leave without another word, not in the mood for any banter with my mentor. It takes me an unusually long time to cross the yard to my home. In fact, I'm so lost in my thoughts, I don't notice the sleek black car waiting for me.

As I enter my house and shake off the few flakes of snow that had fallen as I was out, my mother rushes up to me. "How was your walk, darling?"

Perplexed, I look up to meet my mother's worried eyes. "Mom?"

"Katniss!" my little sister's voice resonates from behind her in the hall, two suited men behind her. "I'm so sorry that I overslept and missed you for our walk. You know how flooded I am with tests."

"It's fine, it was quite cold anyway. I wouldn't have wanted you out." I say, my voice slightly shaky and not as smooth as Prim's. I've never been a good liar.

"Miss Everdeen," one of the men says, side-stepping Prim. "Please follow us."

I'm tempted to refuse, but my mother pushes me along as they lead me up my stairs and to the study. They don't go to enter the door, instead one of them knocks rhythmically before opening the door for me. I'm pushed inside.

Despite the fact that the men who brought me here obviously belong from the Capitol, I am nowhere near prepared to be met with the snakelike eyes of the president of Panem.

"Katniss Everdeen," he says slowly, taking me in.

Trying to remain composed, I stand stiffly at the doorway.

"I think we'll make this whole situation a lot simpler by agreeing not to lie to each other," he says. "What do you think?"

Releasing the hold on my tongue, my mouth manages to form a response, "Yes, I think that would save time."

Snow watches me for a moment. "My advisors were concerned you would be difficult, but you're not planning on being difficult, are you?"

"No," I answer.

He smiles with his thin lips. "That's what I told them. I said any girl who goes to such lengths to preserve her life isn't going to be interested in throwing it away with both hands."

My hands begin to tremble as I remember what I said during my ceremony after winning my Games. How could I have been so stupid? How is my family still alive?

"Please, sit," he says, taking a seat behind the polished wooden desk. I sit down in front of the desk, facing him.

"I have a problem, Miss Everdeen," he begins. "A problem that began the moment you decided to speak those pretty little words of yours on live television six months ago."

My mouth falls open without my consent, yet I'm at a loss for words.

"You haven't got the slightest idea what you've been causing since the moment you volunteered for your sister." he says, his eyes ablaze.

I struggle to keep from averting my gaze. But no, I will not let this man see me weak.

"My first thought was to kill you," he says nonchalantly. "But we both know I couldn't do that. So instead, someone else took your place. Someone whose. . . heart was always set on you."

Without searching his eyes, I know he means Seneca Crane.

"There's nothing that can be done now to quell the damage you've done," he says. "Our only option is to try to fan out the flames that you've sparked. Do you know how you're expected to do that?"

He looks at me expectantly but I just shake my head.

"You," he begins. "Are going to go on your little Tour and subdue the Districts. You are going to make them believe that you are nothing but loyal and grateful to the Capitol. You are going to convince them that there is no ounce of rebellion in you. That there never has been."

I almost want to argue, but I know that it will be useless and only result in putting those I love in danger. "That's all?"

Snow raises a white eyebrow. "Would you like me to add more?"

"No." I say immediately.

He smiles and stands up, making his way to the door. "I'll see you in the Capitol." When the door clicks shut behind him, I take huge gulps of air that I'd been withholding since I walked in the room.

As soon as I'm sure he's gone, I immediately find my bed and throw myself on the soft mattress. I lay there on my back, still, staring at my ceiling. My mind has gone blank. Trying to sleep would do me no good, I have nightmares every time I so much as close my eyes.

That's the price I have to pay for winning the Games, though. The twenty-three others paid with their lives. Nightmares are nothing compared to being reduced to a corpse.

It's too soon when my prep team comes rumbling up the stairs.

* * *

When we approach the train station, I'm surprised at the amount of people who've taken the time to come. These people don't know that I've put a target on Twelve and that this very Tour could determine whether someone in this District dies by the time I return.

Effie fends off the people in "our way" and leads me to an elevated platform before the train where pictures will be taken and goodbyes will be said.

As soon as my feet touch the platform, cameras click and flashes appear from all directions. My goodbyes to my family feel awkward and forced. I hug both my mother and Prim stiffly before I feel Posy wrap her arms around me. I'm caught by surprise. Her tiny arms barely reach my waist. "Come back soon, Katniss. We miss you."

I smile at the sweet little girl. "I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, get your belly ready for the big feast we'll have when I return."

She squeals before going to hide behind her mother.

Rory, Vick, and Hazelle meet me seconds later.

I get tense hugs from Rory and Vick, who both offer me a "see you soon." Hazelle engulfs me in a type of motherly hug I had dreamed of as a girl to get from my mother after my father's death. Deep down, I still long for a reassuring hug from my mother.

"Gale?" I ask her quietly.

Hazelle meets my eyes and shakes her head discreetly. "I think he may be out in the woods. I'm sorry."

In danger of crying, I just nod and force a smile.

Effie forces me to stand for another ten minutes before she's decided that the photographers should have gotten a sufficient amount of pictures and allows me to retreat to the train.

Once I get inside, I immediately go to my old room. I decide that I won't come out until we reach District Eleven. It doesn't take long of sitting on my bed doing nothing before my stomach grumbles, so I order a platter of fruit and a chocolate pot. It's only morning and we aren't expected to arrive for another day. Dinner time isn't for hours. I might as well. When the time for dinner does come, I instead ask for it to be sent down to my room.

The food tastes like nothing in my mouth, yet I force it down anyway.

My mind can't stop running with thoughts of Gale and how I had to open my stupid mouth and say stupid things on live television. Why couldn't I have just evaded the question? Then Gale would still have his hope and not hate me. Then he wouldn't not be met with pitiful eyes from everyone in Twelve wherever he goes.

But then again, he still would've been hurt regardless once I'd have finally told him that I don't see him that way.

I hate him for being so stubborn.

Around ten at night, as I lay in bed in the darkness of my room, urging the fatigue to drag me under, I hear a knock at my door.

If it's Effie with a scolding, I very well may have to get her removed from my staff. A victor can do that, right?

"Hurry, girl," a gruff voice says through the door. I jump to take off the lock.

"Haymitch." I greet as he pushes himself inside.

"We need to talk." he says, sitting himself down at a desk in a corner.

I sit on my bed facing him and wait expectantly for him to speak.

"Okay, look, I know that this Tour's hard on you already, especially with Snow's recent threat," he pauses. "But I have to warn you about Eleven."

I shake my head, confused. "What about it?"

He leans forward carefully and looks directly at my eyes. "Eleven is one of the most unruly Districts. Don't be intimidated. But most importantly, don't do anything stupid."

I'm immediately defensive. "How would I do anything st—"

"Don't argue with me, Katniss." He interrupts. "I want you to be indifferent toward it all. Forgot about Thresh, forget about Rue. Think about Twelve. Think about Prim."

My throat constricts with tears. "Haymitch, I could never forget about them. They haunt me every night."

"I know, sweetheart." He gives me an intense stare that suggests my screams have carried over to his home during my terror-filled nights. "But we can't risk it."

Nodding, I avert my gaze to the window. "And the most?"

"What?"

I meet his eyes. "Which District is the most rebellious?"

Haymitch chuckles. "Eight."

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Surprise! Didn't think I'd be back so soon, huh? Well, me neither lol! But I thought a little same-day update wouldn't hurt. I hope you guys enjoyed it, we got our first peek into the life of our lone victor! Oh! And wanna know a fun fact? The working title for this story was "He" for the longest time. Because_ he _is the one who turns this whole story into something new when he enters Katniss' life. I decided not to go with it because it didn't feel like enough for me, though I still love it very much._ _I'm so excited to keep progressing the story for you guys! I hope you guys tune in for next week's chapter, it's looooooooong and I both apologize and cheer with you in advance. Don't forget to follow, it would mean the world to me._

With love, Daisy


	3. Eight

**Katniss**

The echo of my incessant foot-tapping rings around the cement room. I'm in District Eight, waiting for the mayor to introduce me to the crowds. I couldn't be more terrified. I've managed not to mess up yet, but if there's any risk for mistake, Haymitch's warning tells me that it's here.

"Katniss, darling, calm down. That's not the way a lady acts," Effie says impatiently. "All you have to do is read from cards."

Cinna pats my shoulder. "You'll do fine, Girl On Fire. You've made it through three other Districts already. It'll be over before you know it."

"It hasn't gotten any easier," I whisper.

Cinna places his hands on my shoulders and holds me at arm's length. His gold-lined eyes fixated on me. "You'll be home soon. The tour will be over before you know it. Just breathe."

Nodding, I take a deep breath just as my name is called out. I hear light applause and the two doors before me open. A chill runs through me as I step out into the gloomy air. No faces are happy here.

I'd known from Snow's warning that there was unrest in the Districts, but Eight is radiating more than all the previous Districts I've visited combined. They're tired. Angry. Restless.

And I have no hope in subduing them.

As I approach the microphone, I glance at the families. Both are small, no more than three people on each side. Their faces emanate hate. Nothing I could possibly say will even come close to making anything better for them. Their children died in order for me to live.

When I reach the microphone, I struggle to begin speaking. I make eye contact with a boy my age. He holds no anger in his eyes. Only what seems like. . . sympathy. I feel my face flood with color out of anger. I deserve no one's kindness.

"Hello, District Eight." I begin. The only sound that rings around is my voice. I glance down at my card. "It is such an honor to be here before you all. When I volunteered for the Games, the possibility that I would come out as the lone victor was not something that crossed my mind. My feelings only intensified once I saw my fellow tributes and competitors, especially those of this noble District. I have no doubt that they both were two of the toughest competitors in the Games,"

When I think about it, I know that everyone here knows that is a lie. The boy died in the bloodbath and the girl started a fire in the freezing cold of the first night. The Careers found her soon after, though her cannon sounded three hours after I heard the Career pack's triumphant cheering. I heard her cries of pain until she couldn't hold on anymore. Her killers had no mercy. I felt a pang of guilt. I put the card down and looked her family in the eye.

"If I am truly going to be honest with you all, I want you to know that I never paid her any mind until she was met with her final moments," I say, my voice shaking. Her family now looks as if they are actually listening. I decide it's too late to back down. "Actually, I had never once thought about her until she lit that fire. Even then, my first thought was that she was stupid. I hated that I was close to what I thought was the biggest idiot in the Games. But as soon as I heard her scream, I regretted every bad thought I had. Those hours she laid begging for death still haunt me to this day. I still haven't forgiven myself for being the one who ended her life. Even if it was what she wanted. Even if it was out of mercy." My voice breaks and I cover my mouth with one of my hands. I can't do it anymore. I've said too much. My breathing has become labored and I can no longer fight the tear that slips down my face.

"She would be proud to see you now!"

When I search for the voice, I see a young man not much older than me with his left hand in the air. He holds something silver that glints in the sunlight. Oh no. He throws the object, and I instinctively reach out to catch it. It lands at my feet and I sweep it up in a quick motion. My heart breaks. It's a ring.

At the sound of shuffling feet, I tear my eyes away from the plain silver band back to the boy. He has the three middle fingers of his right hand up in the air. The salute from my District. _No_.

"No!" I yell as Peacekeepers reach him and begin to drag him hastily towards the stage. "Let him go!"

I feel hands wrap around my arms and I pull away, running for the stairs. I sprint towards the boy, hoping that I can somehow stop any repercussions that will undoubtedly cost him his life. My fingers barely ghost over his own before I'm torn away. I can barely make out his whispers, but I catch them nonetheless. Millicent was going to be his.

I try to fight back, but I hear Haymitch's voice and I stop. " _Katniss!_ "

My eyes meet my mentor's and I can tell he's hurt too. But there's nothing we can do. The power is in the Capitol's hands.

Just before I'm dragged into the Justice Building, before they've even settled him down, four Peacekeepers shoot him simultaneously. As if they did it only because they wanted me to see. I don't even have the power to scream. As the doors shut behind me, my vomit splatters all over the hard floor.

Effie, who'd been running toward me, stops and retreats. Only Haymitch comes forward. "Come with me."

Haymitch leads me into the bathroom and sits back as I finish puking into the toilet. Once I'm sure I'm finished, he goes over to the sinks and turns them all on. His gaze sets on me now, and I almost cower. If I weren't shaking enough already, his glare is sure to have me trembling.

"What were you thinking?" he asks harshly. "Didn't you learn from Eleven?"

"She was supposed to get married, Haymitch. Now she's dead and he is too." I say, my voice hollow.

Haymitch crouches in front of me. "And for that stunt, now your loved ones could be too."

I flinch. "Haymitch—"

"No." he says. "No more until this is done. Do what you need to do to get back home. Put your feelings away until after we've left the Capitol. Do you understand me?"

I nod wordlessly. Haymitch flushes the toilet and then turns off all of the faucets before helping me stand. He hugs me tightly.

"Let's finish this tour, sweetheart."

* * *

My dress is a deep shade of green, it could almost pass for black in the darkness. It reaches the floor and has slits between my legs, revealing the long, black, intricate sandals that travel up to my knees. The sleeves are long and fitted, and the bodice has a dip that I fear—yet Cinna assured me over and over again that it won't—will malfunction and bare my breasts to the guests of Eight's dinner party. My makeup is sultry and sexy. Cinna told me that no one would remember the events that took place just hours earlier, but we both knew that was a lie. Only those in the Capitol will fawn over my looks this evening rather than think about my oddly brief broadcast earlier today.

"Everyone, please welcome the Victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen!"

I put on a winning smile and step out. I'm met with a polite applause. At first I'm shocked that the room isn't packed, but then I remember what Haymitch told me before we arrived. There aren't many trustworthy people to the Capitol in this District so full of rebels. The list was shortened over and over and over until they were as pleased as they could get.

A seat is saved for me at a table beside the mayor's. Once I'm seated between Effie and Haymitch, the mayor stands and gives me a speech of honor and valor. I smile widely from beginning to end and wipe a few imaginary tears once he's done. I clap until no one else does, and my cheeks ache from smiling so much. Being an exemplary victor is tiring. I'm ready to eat.

"Katniss?"

I look to my left and find a shy-looking girl a little older than Prim. "Hi."

The girl smiles brightly. "Will you dance with me?

A smile finds my face. "Of course."

The girl takes my hand and skips towards the dance floor. There are a few other couples dancing too, but most others went for the food first.

The song playing is a bit upbeat, and the girl is happily swaying to the music. "Who do I have the pleasure of dancing with today?"

"Huh?" she asks, but her confusion quickly fades. "Oh! Me! I'm Cottie, my daddy's the mayor. He really likes you."

My eyebrows fly in surprise. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah!" Cottie exclaims. "Everyone around here loves you. My friends won't _believe_ that I danced with you! _I_ don't even believe that I'm dancing with you!" She giggles.

"Hopefully this'll be broadcast, then they'll see." I assure her. "You know, my best friend is a mayor's daughter." It's sort of the truth. Madge has grown to become my closest friend.

Her eyes widen and she claps her hands. "No way!"

"I promise," I say. "Her name is Madge. Madge Undersee."

"Wow," she says in awe. "So I could be your best friend? If I was in District Twelve?"

I squeeze her hand. "You could definitely be my best friend. I'd love a friend like you."

Cottie steps forward and wraps her arms around me in a tight embrace. "Oh, Katniss, you're the best! I'm so glad that you won!"

Not sure of how to react, I wrap an arm around her and squeeze her shoulders lightly. "I'm glad that I get to meet people like you."

Cottie gasps and pulls back. "You don't mean that!"

"I do," I say sincerely. This girl has made me smile on a day where I just want to retreat and pretend there is no such thing as a Hunger Games. "I really do."

The little girl's face turn serious, and she tugs my hand down to her level. Once I'm down to where she can reach my face, she leans in close to my ear. "Don't stop fighting. We're here for you. Daddy's here for you, mommy's here for you, all of District Eight is here for you. Give the rest of the Districts the strength that we have." Cottie pulls back and giggles as if she just told me a secret. "But I'm not sure that he likes me. Don't tell my daddy what I told you!"

I'm so shocked that it takes me a second to put on my poker face. I force a smile onto my face and play along. "I won't. I'll protect your secret forever, he'll never know." I wink and she smiles.

"I'm hungry, and I bet you are too. Thank you for the dance, I hope you enjoy your time here in Eight."

This time, I hug her. "Stay safe." I whisper.

When we part, she skips off to the mayor. She says something to him and he beams at her proudly. I soften, remembering the times when my father would look at me that way.

As I brainstorm ways to tell Haymitch what just happened, I make my way over to the food. My plate quickly fills with a variety of dishes and I find myself back in my seat in no time.

It doesn't take long for the contents of my plate to disappear either, and by then I'm incredibly stuffed.

"Miss Everdeen?"

I wince. I've only just sat down after putting my plate away. For once I hope that it's someone with the same priorities as someone from the Capitol. I look up at the man expectantly.

"Would you care to dance?" he asks, his blue eyes a different shade than you see from those in Twelve who come from Town.

As much as I want to say no, I know I have to uphold my image and please those in the Capitol. I'm on camera after all. "I'd be delighted."

Once we reach the dance floor, the man pulls me uncomfortably close. I try to put some distance between us, but he holds me tightly against him. My eyes search for Haymitch. "Don't be afraid."

A bitter laugh escapes me involuntarily. "You're telling me how to feel? When you've just forced me to come dance with you?"

"It wasn't forced if you agreed," he points out.

I hide my scowl. "You knew I wouldn't say no."

"Something tells me not to believe that's because of my terribly good looks?" he asks.

A smile almost makes its way onto my face. "Yeah, don't believe that for a second."

He chuckles and we're both silent for a long time. I'm incredibly tense. Just before the song ends, he leans in close and rushes out words I'm just barely able to decipher. "I'm going to say this once and I'm going to say it quick. I know what you're trying to do, and you need to stop right now. The Districts are finally becoming brave enough to fight back and I'm not going to let you put them down. You're going to be a mentor soon. Do this for them. Don't let them down too."

With that, he bows and kisses my left hand before twirling me enough to almost make me lose my balance in my heels. By the time I'm sure I won't fall and turn around, there's no sight of him.

I can't breathe. I feel dizzy. I take a few steps back and run into a wall. In an attempt to ground myself, I place each of my hands against the wall and feel the coolness against my fingers as I spread them out slowly, pressing each of my fingers on its smooth surface one at a time to remind me I'm still here. I need fresh air.

Without thinking, I rush off to find a way out. After minutes of walking around blindly, I find a flight of stairs in a deserted hall and climb as high as they'll take me. There, I find an empty dust-covered room with doors that lead to a balcony outside. I run to the blowing curtains, nearly knocking over a table as I go, and feel instant relief at the wind. I go out as far as I can and wrap my hands around the top of the marble rail. I allow myself to close my eyes and try to steady my breathing.

My harsh breaths are the only things that I can hear.

Maybe that's why I don't hear the loud gait of my companion until he's much too close.

"Are you alright?"

I nearly launch myself over the railing. Cursing myself, I turn around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. I try to stand tall, but my erratic breathing gives me away. "Did you follow me?"

The young man's eyes soften. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't answer my question," I accuse.

"I just want to make sure you're okay." he says gently.

I stare into his eyes and an air of familiarity hits me. I feel as if I've seen those blue eyes before. When walking around Town or passing Townies in school. I'm shaking. "Go."

He shakes his head slightly. "Not until I know you're alright."

"I'm fine!" I snap, trying to steady my breathing.

"That's a lie," he says softly, stepping towards me. "Can I help you?"

"I said go!" I yell. "Now!" I press my hands against his chest in an effort to push him away, but my arms feel like the jelly deserts the Capitol serves after dinner.

The boy grabs my hands with a gentleness I've only ever seen from Prim when she handles sick patients, his pale hands reminding me of her own. "It's okay, Katniss. I just want to help you."

My eyes snap up to his. I swear that I have seen those eyes before. I _have_. My eyes have been fixed on them before. Did I see him among the crowds? "I don't need help."

"Katniss, please," he says. "Do you need Haymitch? Your escort?"

He's inches from my face and his voice catches me off guard. Why does it sound so much like home? "Why don't you just leave?"

"I don't want to." he says.

I've nearly steadied my breathing. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" he asks.

I haven't been fine in a long time. But I want this boy to leave, desperately. He makes me uneasy. I nod.

The boy looks deeply into my eyes. He squeezes my hands, which I'd forgotten were still placed on his chest. "Does your mother give you any sort of remedies to help when this happens?"

I'm immediately on alert, panic rising in my chest. "What do you know about my mother?"

"Katniss. . ." he trails, flitting his eyes away. He seems embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't have expected you to recognize me."

I look him up and down. Inspect him closely. I'm positive I don't know him. It wouldn't be possible for someone from Twelve to be here anyway. No one can leave anymore.

I nearly bite my tongue off.

"Peeta Mellark?"

His eyes shine for a moment before he composes himself. "Katniss Everdeen."

I'm at a loss for words.

The Mellark's leaving was huge. No one had been allowed to leave the District in years. When his mother revealed to everyone in the District that they were allowed to leave, everyone was skeptical and curiously watched them to see if it was true. She was the biggest gossip. When the Capitol train arrived on the fated day and took the Mellark's with them, everyone was stunned. Another bakery never popped up, and the loss of the Mellark Bakery hit everyone. The wealthy had nowhere to go to buy their pastries. Those in Town had nowhere to buy their bread. I had nowhere to trade for the plain loaves I know Prim enjoyed with stews. After that, it had all been the flat stuff I was able to make from the grains given when I'd take tesserae. I'd almost thought that I imagined having a bakery. That there never were any Mellark's.

But I could never forget what the youngest Mellark did for me.

My mind takes me back to their last days before leaving Twelve. I'd caught Peeta's eyes traced on me before, but the week—or even month—before his leaving it was a nonstop occurrence. I'd even thought I'd started to imagine it. Or maybe it was because I was the skinniest I'd ever been. It was hard for people not to stare. Some probably thought that I'd drop dead. My cheeks burn when I think of how I kissed his cheek.

"You look sick, do you want to sit down?"

I jump at the sound of his voice. How long have we been standing here? I meet his eyes. He looks. . . hopeful? "Sit?"

He gestures to the table I'd forgotten was there. "You're shaking. Are you cold?"

"No," I shake my head. I think about going back to the party, but the thought of it really does make me sick. "I'll sit."

Peeta moves to the table and pulls a chair out before sitting on one across from it. "That's good. I was getting worried that your legs were going to give out." He says, chuckling lightly.

I sit across from him, unable to stop staring. He looks so different, but at the same time he looks just as he did when we were young. "How's Eight?"

Peeta smiles. "It's been alright. Twelve?"

I bite my cheek and look out past the balcony. Does the sky look the same in Twelve? Or am I so far that it's still daylight back home? "It hasn't changed at all. I doubt you'd see a difference if you went back."

"Really?" He asks, his voice awe-filled. It makes me smile. "I miss it."

My eyes snap back to his. "You miss it?"

His brows furrow for a moment before softening. "Of course I miss it. It's home."

"Even after all these years?" I ask. With so much going on in Eight, I would have long forgotten about home.

He nods. "I've dreamt of going back one day."

I hold back a bitter laugh. "I used to dream about leaving Twelve. Now the thought of leaving makes me sick. I can't wait to get back to my sister. But I'm terrified—" I stop. I don't know why I want to share with him, he's basically a stranger.

"Terrified of what?" He prods gently.

I bite my lip. Gale hasn't spoken to me in weeks and I refuse to share my thoughts with Prim. I don't want to scare her. I spill. "Of going back. Of my family being gone. Of being a mentor. Of sending back kids in wooden boxes."

Peeta reaches across the table and squeezes one of my trembling hands. "You're going to be the best thing those kids could have. You had Haymitch as your mentor. That means you made it out on your own."

A smile finds its way back onto my lips. "He's smarter than he looks."

"I bet he is," Peeta says. "He also got lucky with you."

"What do you mean?" Just because Haymitch and I don't always get along doesn't mean I'm not protective of him.

Peeta smiles. "You're the best thing he could've gotten. He finally got someone who was able to represent District Twelve as it should be. And the Capitol hates it."

I'm shocked at his words. "I'm the worst thing he could've gotten. I'm trouble."

Peeta opens his mouth to respond, but before he has a chance to speak we're interrupted by someone clearing their throat. We look up to find my mentor. "What are you doing, girl? Effie's been going crazy looking for you."

"I needed air." I say, averting my eyes from his own. I feel Haymitch's eyes land on my hand and I jerk it back towards me.

When I meet his eyes once again, I know he's going to want an explanation. "And _I_ need you to get back to _your_ ceremony."

As I stand, I meet Peeta's eyes. He looks curious. "Thank you." I say, my voice quiet.

Peeta gives me a comforting smile. "Have a good night."

"Sorry boy," Haymitch chuckles, assessing Peeta closely. "At least it shouldn't be too hard for you to find another girl to entertain yourself with."

With that, Haymitch grabs my arm and drags me back down to our table. I can feel the tension radiating off of him.

I haven't even fully sat down before he's opened his mouth. "What are you thinking?"

"What?" I fold my arms across my chest, a habit I've gotten used to after winning my Games.

"You're lucky you had the brains to talk to that boy in private. Snow is watching your every move. You don't need to be dragging any more people into this." he scolds, his mouth morphed into a smile to disguise the heat of our conversation.

"I'm not!" I snap.

Haymitch shakes his head. "There's a lot of trouble here in Eight. It's bad. Snow has this place on lock down. For all we know, that boy could be trying to get information from you. I'm just glad that you're not the type to be stupid enough to be swayed by charming men."

My blood boils at his distrust for Peeta. "He's from home."

Haymitch pauses for a second but composes himself quickly. "That doesn't mean anything. District loyalty only goes so far. He must've left young, which means that there's none to be had."

"Katniss!"

I wince as Effie makes her way over to me. "You just have to try this drink! It's wonderful!"

I look back over to where Haymitch was sitting only a second ago, but all I find is his retreating back. "Enjoy yourself, sweetheart. I'll see you tomorrow."

Effie forces the deep yellow drink in my hand and nudges it toward my mouth. She seems extra peppy. "Try it!"

I force a smile. "Thank you, Effie." I sip the drink. It's exotic flavor catches me off guard. Effie giggles.

"There's more at the bar, it's their special for the night!" She beams. "I'll be back around midnight to take you back to the train."

Effie saunters off happily. Something tells me that she has no idea that it's nearly eleven already.

I finish my drink and quickly go find another. I don't have anything else to lose today.

* * *

 **Peeta**

It's nearly one in the morning when I know it's time for me to go home. But now that I've talked to Katniss, I want to give her a proper goodbye. I probably won't ever see her again.

After coming up empty in my searching, I've almost convinced myself Katniss has left before I find her in the last place I would have expected to see her, near the bar entertaining herself with a toothpick. Oh no.

"Katniss?"

She swivels around quickly. Her eyes search me, not saying a word. She's probably forgotten who I am.

"You haven't left yet?" I ask. Katniss laughs.

"Don't worry, Effie says we're gonna go back to the train 'bout midnight." Katniss says.

I wince. "Let's get you back." Effie's probably left by now.

Katniss doesn't resist as I grab her hand and take her with me to her train. When we reach the doors, I almost leave. But Katniss holds onto my sleeve and asks me to come back, so I do. I couldn't resist her.

I'm amazed as soon as I step foot inside. Everything seems to be either covered in wood, velvet, or leather. Nothing looks out of place, everything looks pristine. Perfect.

Katniss guides me to her room and I'm immediately in awe. Her room is exactly as I would have imagined it would be. Everything is either covered in a polished wood or a green the color of the forest I'm sure she hunts in. I look around as she stumbles into a room I assume is the bathroom.

After she brushes her teeth, she sits on her bed and I help her change into comfortable night clothes. She's so out of it, I have to force her under the covers so I can tuck her in.

When Katniss is all settled, she reaches out for me and mumbles words I can't make out. I meet her hand with one of my own and kiss it gently. "Good night, Katniss. I know you're going to do great on the rest of your tour. And I hope you'll learn to trust yourself. Your future tributes will be in good hands. I may be far away here in Eight, but I'll be cheering you on. Always." She has her eyes closed. I sneak a quick kiss on her forehead and brush away a few stray strands of hair before I force myself to leave.

Once I step out of her room, I realize how eerily quiet it is, and without Katniss I almost want to run out. But the place is beautiful. I could paint it on canvas, or the cookies I frost.

The train door has barely shut behind me before I feel someone grab me and drag me to a nearby tree. I'm almost able to free myself, but my attacker seems to be ready for everything I throw at them.

"Calm down, boy!"

I'm startled at the voice. "H-Haymitch?"

He pushes me against the tree and holds me there. "What do you think you're doing with her?" He snarls.

"Nothing," I say honestly. "I just wanted her to get back safe."

Haymitch shakes his head. "Why are you trying to get close to her?"

"I'm not." I tell him, feeling his grip tighten on my shirt. I'm hoping he doesn't rip it because it's the nicest I own.

"How did you get her to talk to you?" He asks.

I swallow nervously. "I knew her back in Twelve. We're in the same year in school."

He narrows his gray eyes. "You're from Twelve?"

I nod. "My name is Peeta Mellark, my family used to own the bakery."

He contemplates something for a second before he opens his mouth again. "What were you saying before, about the Capitol and Katniss?"

My mouth feels dry. I've never been so nervous. "I was just saying, she really caused quite the stir after her ceremony in the Capitol. And I admire her for it."

Seemingly satisfied, Haymitch nods and lets go of my shirt. "We're watching you now, boy. Be careful what you do."

"You'll just see a lot of school and some bakery action," I try joking.

"I like you," Haymitch comments. "I hope you don't disappoint me."

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Hello my dear friends. I hope you're all as excited as I am now that Peeta and Katniss have found each other! This update is a day early but I just couldn't help myself lol. I'm working on the final chapters of this story and I get so excited as I develop the story more and more. I hate that you guys aren't as up to date as I am, but I know that there would be no fun in springing it all on you at once (; I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It is definitely one of my favorites I've written for the story. I'll see you guys next week!_

With love, Daisy


	4. Malfunction

**Katniss**

I'm sitting up in my bed counting the number of times the train car jolts when we skid to a stop. I freeze. This isn't right. We can't possibly be in Twelve.

My door slides open and Effie saunters in. "Katniss, dear? I'm sorry if the train woke you, but I have news!"

I wasn't sleeping anyway. "What is it, Effie?"

She walks over to the side of my bed and grabs one of my hands, "We are going to have to make a stop here for a while. We need more fuel, and it seems like something has malfunctioned on the train. We may be here a while, darling. This is going to delay your arrival home a day or two, but hopefully no more than that! We've already alerted the mayor so he knows to push back the Festival."

"Where are we?" I ask, disappointed that I won't see Prim as soon as I'd hoped.

Effie's nose wrinkles. "Sadly, District Eight. It couldn't have been One, or Four. . ."

My throat closes up. My mind goes back to the last time I was here, the man. What if the rebels had something to do with this? But no, I doubt the rebels would do something to sabotage my arrival home. Right?

"In case you want to get some fresh air, you can step off the train," Effie continues. "Just make sure that you're gone no more than an hour at a time and that you stay where Peacekeepers can keep an eye on you, for your safety. But don't you worry about any heathens darling, the District is being put under strict surveillance for you."

For me? "Okay. . . thank you, Effie."

She claps her hands delightedly. "I'm going to go wake Haymitch. It's almost time for breakfast."

I nod and Effie gives me a big smile before leaving my room.

It takes a while before I finally decide to get up and go to the bathroom. Snow's words are still fresh in my mind. He said I wasn't successful, that the Districts were still as rebellious as they had been before and I hadn't even made a dent in it. My family could be dead.

I finally get up to brush my teeth, afterwards releasing my hair from its discernible braid. I then decide to make my way to the dining cart.

To my surprise, when I get there, no one else has arrived and the food hasn't been laid out yet. My stomach rumbles loudly. I'm not sure when breakfast will be. Effie said it would be soon, yet the sun has barely begun to peek through the sky. My stomach growls again.

I go back to my room and search for a light sweater to wear. I'm still only in my nightgown, but I don't want to change until I shower and I'm hungry now. I pull it on and rush out before anyone sees me.

When I leave the train, I don't look back.

The place is quiet. Quieter than Twelve when names are being reaped on Reaping day. The hairs on my arm stand up though I'm not cold.

I find a path and follow it, amazed by everything. The path is made of dirt and was very worn down. The buildings were tall and wide, but gray and drab with cracks throughout.

I notice that I don't see a single other person out.

As soon as I lay eyes on the cream colored building, I know that I've found what I was looking for. A large wooden sign above it read _Mellark Bakery_ in bold black letters. I climb the porch steps slowly, my eyes tracing the carved letters in a small sign hanging beside the door, _8am — 8pm Daily_. One look at the sky told me it was barely seven. I knocked softly on the wooden door anyway.

I waited patiently, looking at the cakes on display. They're beautiful. Each and every detail incredibly intricate. I don't even realize he's watching me, I'm so carefully tracing a frosted primrose from atop a cake. My fingers just barely grazing the glass. "Katniss?"

I stumble back a few steps, startled. When I look up, I see Peeta. He looks just as confused as I feel. The bakery isn't supposed to be open, I didn't expect anyone to actually answer. "I'm sorry, I didn't think anyone was awake."

Peeta steps outside. "I'm up at five every morning."

I feel my cheeks grow hot. "Don't you have school today?"

He smiles. "Not until eight thirty. I help get the bakery started every morning."

"Oh," I say, straightening up. "You didn't have to open the door."

Peeta laughs. "Nice to know that you're still as charming as ever."

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, as much as a dead slug." I say it so quietly I don't expect him to hear, but Peeta cocks an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" He tries to stifle a smile.

"Nothing. Just something Haymitch said once," I shift on my feet.

"Well, would you like to come inside?" Peeta asks. "I'm just kneading some dough right now."

Against my better judgment, I follow him inside. I take a seat at a table in the corner away from windows. I don't think I could stand another scolding from rebels. My stomach growls again.

"Would you like something to eat?" Peeta chuckles. "I just had some cheese buns come out of the oven not long before you knocked. Have you tried them before?"

I bite the inside of my cheek. I'd just wanted to buy a loaf of bread to take back with me. But I like cheese. And I like bread. "No," I say instead.

"I think you'll like them." He says, exiting through some doors behind the register that I assume lead to the kitchens.

When Peeta returns, he sets down a plate with two buns. "Thank you."

"Of course," Peeta says. "Would you like some tea?"

Clearing my throat, I debate whether or not I truly want it. But I'll need something to wash down the buns with. "Yes."

Peeta once again disappears through the doors. A steaming pot of tea is in his hands along with two spoons and white tea cups. They look a bit worn and well used. "Sugar?"

"Oh, yes," I say awkwardly. "Three spoonfuls."

Peeta nods and fills my glass, adding three spoonfuls of sugar and mixing it a bit before pushing it towards me. "Here you go."

I take a sip and watch as Peeta serves himself his own cup and drinks it just as it is. I make a face. "No sugar?"

"Huh?" Peeta looks confused before realizIng what I mean. "Oh, no. I don't take sugar in my tea."

Pursing my lips, I decide to focus on the buns. "You're the first person I've met who doesn't. Prim just piles it on."

Peeta tries to suppress a smile, looking at me curiously. "I wonder who she gets that from."

I scowl. "I only added three."

"I'm only joking," he chuckles. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how come you're back in Eight?"

I blow on my buns and tea for a moment before I answer. "The train needed to refuel and we had some sort of malfunction."

Peeta nods and takes another sip of his tea. "How long do you think you'll be here?"

I shrug. "Effie says it could be a few days."

We're silent for a long time before either of us says another word.

I decide to break the tense silence. "Are you not expecting many customers today?"

Peeta seems to tense even more and averts his gaze. I begin to grow hot. Haven't I learned to keep my mouth shut?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." I say quickly.

He shakes his head and seems to deflate when he meets my eyes again. A sigh escapes his lips. "Actually, business has been especially slow for about half a year now." Peeta meets my eyes then, a sense of urgency in them.

It takes me a moment before I realize what he means. I meet his eyes and lower my voice. "What's happening here, Peeta?"

He meets my eyes with an intense stare and I can barely hear his next words. "The people of District 8 are thirsty for rebellion. With all of the curfews and floggings, it's been hard to get customers. The bakery's been struggling along with everyone else here in Eight. Everyone's starving but no one can afford anything. We only ever bake for Peacekeepers now."

"Really," I whisper. "It's that bad?"

Peeta nods solemnly. "These people are brave. . . too brave."

"Because of me," I say softly. I feel empty. These people are going to risk their life in a fight they can't win. Because of me.

"Because of you, people are finally brave enough to fight back, Katniss." Peeta says. "Something could really happen."

I shake my head. "Nothing is going to happen."

"Kat—"

" _No_ ," I interrupt. "You don't know them. You don't know that it's futile. Impossible. What are a couple Districts going to do? _Thirteen_ districts weren't enough in the Dark Days. We've been subjected to The Hunger Games the past seventy-four years and we've had rebels all throughout that time, yet we're still here in the same situation as we always have been. Don't say that suddenly now because I won the Games _something_ is possible. Nothing has changed, not really."

Peeta looks away, mumbling his next few words quietly. "There's nothing wrong with having a little bit of hope."

I meet his eyes. They are glistening. My own hold tears I'm unwilling to shed.

Peeta clears his throat and blinks his away. "You're the best thing that's happened to Panem. You just don't know it yet."

Pretending to not have heard those last words, I decide to change the subject, not wanting to find out what he means. "Did you know her? Millicent?"

Peeta's eyes are sad. "I didn't know her personally, but my brother made some comments about her being very bright. Aside from school, she had been working in a warehouse to help support her family after her mother was injured in a fire some years ago. . ." Peeta shakes his head in disgust and his free hand balls up into a fist.

"She's dead because I'm alive," I whisper. "They're all dead because I'm alive."

I stop and gulp down half of my tea, hoping the heat of it going down my throat will distract me. Peeta lays a hand on mine. "Don't think that way."

"But it's true," I snap. "And in six months, another two. That cycle is going to repeat _every year_. I'm going to go mad."

Peeta's eyes soften. "Oh, Katniss. I told you. When it comes time, you'll see what I mean."

I shake my head but I don't say another word.

"You should eat." Peeta suggests.

Picking up a bun, I inspect it. It's still warm. The smell of cheese is nearly overwhelming but it makes my mouth water. I take a large bite and it takes everything in me not to moan. I haven't tasted something so delicious since the lamb stew.

"What do you think?" He asks, his eyes hopeful. "It's one of my favorites."

I take another bite. "It's better than most of the things I've tried in the Capitol."

Peeta rubs the back of his neck and smiles slightly. "I'm glad you like it."

I finish the bun and begin to eat the other, barely taking breaks to drink my tea. "You made this?"

Peeta nods eagerly. "Yes, my father taught me when we moved here and I've made them ever since. They sell well."

When I'm finished, Peeta takes my dishes and goes to the back. He has a box in his hands when he returns. "What is that?"

"For you," he says. Peeta places the box in front of me on the table. "They're good cold too, but take these just in case you leave tonight."

I marvel at the boy in front of me for a moment. "How are you so kind?"

Peeta looks down at his feet and puts his hands in his pockets. "You deserve it."

I stand and pull a handful of coins out of my pocket. "Here, I hope this is enough."

"Oh, Katniss, no," he says, rushing to keep me from placing the money on the counter. "That's a lot more than it would be. But it doesn't matter anyway, it's on me."

"I have more money than I need and you just told me minutes ago that the bakery is struggling." I say. "I'm paying."

After I put the money down, I walk over to the door and rest my hand on the glass, not quite yet ready to leave this small piece that reminds me of home. "Thank you for coming." Peeta says quietly.

I look at him one more time, trying to understand this boy. So pure and gentle. "Thank you."

 **Peeta**

After I've closed up the bakery, I go outside and sit on my porch with my homework. I'm almost done with the last sheet when I hear footsteps coming towards me. I look up just in time to be met with Haymitch and a woman I don't recognize.

"Peeta Mellark?"

I sit up straight, pushing my things to the side. "Haymitch Abernathy."

My words are met with a scowl. "Come with us, we'd like to speak to you. In private."

The woman beckons me toward them and grabs my arm when I reach their side. "You may have seen me before. My name is Paylor, I work with the mayor."

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "I don't think I recognize you."

She grabs my arm tighter. "You're not the easiest to track either. Born in Twelve, moved here when you were eleven. You have the most perfect record I've ever seen. You've never done a single thing wrong, and you have some of the highest marks of your class. There were no shortage of compliments about you, Mr. Mellark. Now please tell me, why is it that you've shown such an interest in our most recent victor?"

I swallow hard. "We used to go to school together."

"You're a smart boy, Peeta," Haymitch says. "I hope that you'll work with us."

"You were her most generous sponsor from Eight," Paylor tells me. "You went to her ceremony here. You can't tell us that you did all of that just because you went to school with her when you were children."

My cheeks burn and Haymitch guffaws. "Don't tell me what I'm thinking, boy."

Paylor looks from him to me. "Explain."

I scratch the back of my neck and try not to look at them. "Is it really that easy to guess, Haymitch?"

Haymitch shakes his head and turns to Paylor. "The boy likes her."

The corners of Paylor's mouth perks up. "I heard she's tough to swallow."

"You have no idea," Haymitch says.

"What is going on?" I ask, not wanting to hear them talk about Katniss and my crush.

Haymitch and Paylor share a look. We start another trek to a more secluded area. They don't speak again until we're hidden behind some bushes in a clump of trees. "What do you know about the rebel movement?" Asks Paylor.

"The rebel movement?" I shift from one foot to another. Why are they asking me about this?

"I heard you talk down on the Capitol the other night." Haymitch says. "It didn't sound like you were a fan. Are you involved in any rebel organizations?"

"No!" I say. "No, I'm not. But who in their right mind agrees with the Capitol?"

They share another look that makes me uneasy.

"Peeta," Paylor says. "Haymitch and I want to ask something very important of you. And I ask that everything we speak of tonight stays between us, our people will not hesitate to protect the movement. At all costs."

I nod. I have a feeling that I won't be coming out of this meeting without a target on my back, no matter what I say.

Haymitch takes a step toward me. "You're a smart boy. We know that. We also know that you've never been on any sort of radar. I figured you cared for Katniss, to the extent I don't know. But I do know that you are willing to look after her and you have some sort of distaste for the Capitol."

I cross my arms. "And if that's true?"

Paylor smiles. "Then we want to propose something to you."

"What?" I ask. I can feel my heart racing, nearly wanting to escape out of my chest.

"We want you to act as a sort of . . . spy for us." Haymitch says. "We won't ask much of you, but you have to know that it will come with risks."

" _But_ ," Paylor interjects, giving Haymitch a glare. "I'll be looking out for you. If I ever hear anything concerning you, I'll alert you and pull you out of anything you may be doing for us immediately. I'll ensure you're safe at all times. But it'll be very unlikely that anyone would suspect anything of you."

"How could you even trust me?" I ask.

Paylor smiles. "I've been watching you. I've learned a lot about you. I know that you won't disappoint us, Peeta. Much less Katniss."

I stiffen at the mention of her name. "What does Katniss have to do with this?"

Haymitch scowls. "She's too afraid to go against the Capitol right now. I think we both know that she would do anything to protect her family. That's what she's doing right now. The only way she'll do what she wants in her heart is if she feels more confident in the cause."

I shake my head. "I still don't understand why you want _me_."

Paylor huffs and sends Haymitch a look. "Peeta, we could really use someone like you on our side. Our team has decided that you could be very useful."

"So what do you think?" Haymitch asks.

My mind is reeling. A rebel spy? That could get me killed. It could get my _family_ killed. But it could also help Katniss. It could help me get back at the Capitol, for everything they've done. I look at Haymitch. "This would help Katniss?"

A smirk spreads across his face and he shakes his head. "It would. I'll even give you updates on her."

I know that I visibly perk up at that but I don't care. They know I care for her. The only reason I'd consider something like this is for her. The reason I'm going to _do_ this is for her. "I'm in."

Paylor draws me in and pats my back firmly. "You've made a good decision." When she draws away, she gestures towards Haymitch. "I'll see you around here, but I want you to meet with Haymitch tomorrow night on their train."

I pull away. "How am I going to do that? Curfew is at—"

I'm cut off by her laugh. "Peeta, don't make us regret our decision."

Haymitch rolls his eyes and finishes for her. "Leave as soon as curfew begins. Paylor is going to make sure no Peacekeepers will be around. Go straight to the train. I'll be in the bar car, we can go to my room from there. When it's time for you to go back Paylor will have already made sure the Peacekeepers are finished patrolling your path back home so you can make it back safely. I'll see you tomorrow, kid."

Paylor and Haymitch don't give me another glance before they turn away and leave. I stay back.

The only thing I can think is that Katniss Everdeen will never stop changing my life.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Let me tell you all a little story about this chapter. I've had a handful of chapters uploaded to my Doc Manager for a few months now, right? Well, as I was looking over them last week after posting the first two chapters I noticed that my labeled chapters 3 and 4 did not flow at ALL. Chapter 4 in no way meshed with the end of chapter 3 and I was like what was I doing here lol. I was confused but shrugged it off and allllllmost got to revising "4" to make it follow 3 better. But! I decided to check the files on my computer and low and behold, the real chapter 4 was hidden under a different name. I thought I'd lost it for good and was incredibly distraught. This chapter almost never was thanks to my lovely filing skills. Let's all give my searching skills a pat on the back, though, eh? I'm uploading this early because of that and the simple fact that I want to. Next week's chapter is sure to make you all happy, I revised them back to back so everything flows nicely. Don't forget to follow and review!_

With love, Daisy


	5. Haymitch

**Katniss**

It's our second night in Eight, and I'm laying in the darkness of my room trying to fall asleep. Sleep had not found me at all the night before. I hadn't even realized how fast the time passed until the sun was rising.

My eyes fall on the table beside my bed. It holds a tiny bottle of pills and a now-warm glass of water. After seeing the bags under my eyes at breakfast this morning Effie gave me a long talk about the benefits of healthy sleeping habits. She then gave me the pills because she said that I needed my "beauty sleep" to make myself look easier on the cameras.

Placing my hands on either side of me, I slowly sit up in my bed, my eyes still trained on the bottle. Trying just one couldn't hurt. Effie said she takes two or three a night. One definitely wouldn't hurt.

I reach for the bottle.

The pills are as tiny as my pinky nail and a bright white color, rivaling the color of Effie's teeth. I grab the glass and quickly toss the little tablet in my mouth, not hesitating as I gulp down the water in seconds as if I were back in my first arena. I don't even feel the pill go down.

After I set the glass on the table, I grab the bottle and stuff it into the drawer. I lay down and get into a comfortable position. I expect to wait at least an hour before the effects take a toll on me, but I start to feel the fatigue no more than fifteen minutes later.

The last thing I remember is pulling the blankets up to my chin before the effects of the pill pulls me under.

 **Peeta**

Haymitch isn't nearly as bad as he tries to make himself out to be. On camera, he's always the laughingstock of the nation. My mother always has an earful to say on Reaping day every year about him. My friends back in Twelve used to be afraid of becoming someone like Haymitch. Tonight I find out that I wouldn't mind it.

When I arrived to the train, Haymitch sat me down at the bar and we talked like old friends about the wonders of District Eight as we poured drinks. I could only hope that the smell will have worn off of me by the time I return home, or my mother will not hesitate to teach me a lesson on being a reckless teen.

After we finish the bottle Haymitch asks me if I'd like to see his collection of favorite spirits in his room. I take that as a hint to talk in private and agree.

Once we get to his room he leads me to the bathroom and loudly proclaims that he has it hidden underneath his sink for safe keeping. Even though I thought that detail was just part of the ruse, he really does open the doors to reveal a small stash.

Haymitch scares me when he yells out of nowhere, cursing about spilling a bottle. I'm confused until he turns on the tap at its strongest and I see his face turn sober. "You're not drunk, are you boy?"

I shake my head. "No, sir,"

Haymitch scowls. "Don't do the formalities."

"I'm sorry." I say, waiting for him to speak. His scowl grows wider.

"How is a boy like you so head over heels for a girl like her?" He asks, shaking his head. "Okay, so you have never been involved in any kind of rebel activity?"

"No," I tell him. "I've never even thought about it."

He nods, scratching the stubble on his chin. Thinking for a long time. "You're doing all this because of Katniss?"

Haymitch doesn't even need a response. I nod even though I'm sure my face has already given me away.

"What's the story?" He asks.

I rub the back of my suddenly stiff neck. "The story?"

"Tell me every detail and don't leave anything out," he says. "I want to know how you managed to fall for the girl."

Sighing, I sit down on the edge of the tub and think back to when it all began.

It was early September when every child in my year had to begin attending school. My father took me because my mother refused to come. She insisted that she had to stay back with the bakery when he asked her to join him. He even offered to stay behind so she could go. When she still refused, my father made me stand outside while he tried to convince her to come, but I still heard her biting words. _I don't_ need _to go, I've done it before with Bran and Rye. It's nothing new or exciting. It's just old._ I'm not going.

My father did not bother arguing any further. He simply left and grabbed my hand, holding it tightly as we made our way to the school building while he told me some of his fondest memories of when he was a schoolboy. As we approached the building, he fell quiet. I asked him what was wrong and he crouched down to my level and discreetly pointed in her direction. My eyes landed on her immediately, even though I wasn't sure who he was pointing to. _Do you see the girl with the two braids?_ I nodded. _I wanted to marry her mother._

My little mind exploded. I could never see my father with anyone but my mother. My brothers always joked that he was the only one in all of Twelve who could handle her. So all my life I believed that he was _made_ for her, and _only_ her. Stunned, I asked my father why he didn't. He chuckled lightly, his eyes a bit glazed. _Because she ran off with a coal miner instead_. I was so confused, asked why she'd choose a coal miner over him. My father simply told me that when he sang, even the birds stopped to listen. I thought that that was the silliest thing I'd ever heard.

I looked for her the rest of the day. The pretty little girl with the deep black hair in two braids and olive skin hidden beneath a red plaid dress. She was a curious thing. Always eager to listen and learn. The first to follow along with the rules. Never once questioning those in authority. She was just a good girl.

By the time we got to the music assembly I was incredibly intrigued by her spirit. And then our teacher asked who knew the valley song. Her hand was the first to shoot up. We were all sitting on the floor but our teacher still grabbed a little stool and placed it in the front of the room. Right in the center, just for her. After my father's story I was curious to see whether she had a voice as good as her father seemed to have.

As soon as she sang the first note I was in a trance. I had never heard something so mesmerizing, so perfect. By the time she finished the song, Katniss Everdeen had been engraved in my heart. It was only after she finished her song that I realized that the world outside the open window was silent, and I listened as all became normal in the outside world again as the birds began singing. My jaw dropped at the realization.

When my father went to get me that afternoon, I ran to him in the courtyard and frantically told him that she made the birds fall silent too. I think that was when he knew that _I_ was a goner. As she left I watched her mother and father each grab a hand of hers and she skipped off happily towards the Seam. Once she was out of sight, my father grabbed my face in his hands and looked at me with a smile. He kissed my forehead and we went on our way back to the bakery where I told my parents about what we did in school. My brothers asked if I saw any pretty girls and my face flushed. After that, they teased me about every single merchant girl my age we came across. That didn't bother me though, because my girl was from the Seam.

I'd watched her after that. Always looking for her in the crowds. She was the happiest girl. I loved that about her. No one and nothing could ever ruin her spirit.

The day when the mine exploded sirens blared across the District following the sound of a boom. My blood ran cold and I immediately turned to Katniss. I could tell that she was scared. It was the first time I'd ever seen her that way. But Katniss was stoic as she waited for the teacher to dismiss us all home. As soon as we were given the all-clear, Katniss ran out of the room and booked it in the direction of the younger kids. I grabbed her books for her and dropped them off at her house before I went back home. My mother hit me for not meeting with my brothers and coming home immediately. I ran to my room and stared out of my window toward the mines, hoping that Mr. Everdeen was okay. I couldn't bare the thought of Katniss losing her father. I knew how much she loved him.

Katniss and her father would go to the bakery and admire the cakes all of the time. I was always excited when they did so much as stand outside of the building to look at the displays. Her amazement at the designs my father did on the cakes was what inspired me to learn how to ice them.

I remember the rare days when he'd bring her into the bakery to pick out a treat. He'd always bring his game bag, prepared to trade his whole haul to get Katniss the treat of her choice. One day, while waiting for my father to ice a _K_ on the cookie she'd picked, I heard him sing. I peered around the corner at the sound of a warm voice that had traveled all the way up to my room and found Katniss sitting on the counter, her father holding her hand and serenading her with a song. Katniss was in awe, singing some words with him every now and again whenever she'd snap out of her trance for a second or two to join him. But she much preferred to just hear him sing alone. _Are you, are you, coming to the tree?_ That was the only line she'd sing with him. Her soft, sweet voice mingled with his own deep yet warm one was incredibly pleasant to the ears.

After the death of her father, Katniss changed. I felt the shift before I saw it myself. She grew quiet, reserved. Became even more independent than she had been before. Katniss only spoke when asked to, and I only ever saw her come alive when she was with her little sister. Primrose has always been the most important thing to Katniss, above everything else. Prim was hers.

When I found out that we were leaving, I cried for days. I couldn't believe it until my father came and consoled me. We both cried that morning. My father caught me alone that night and told me that I would find another girl that I would love as strongly. I nodded my head but I knew he was wrong. The entire month before I left, I tried to work up the courage to simply say something to her. But Katniss seemed so out of reach. I'd never done more than admire her from afar. She was so perfect that she was intimidating. In the end, I couldn't do it.

I was so angry with myself. All I had to do was go up to her and strike a conversation. I could do it with anyone else. I was never going to see her again. Even if it went terribly, at least I'd know that I still tried.

One rainy night, I was in the bakery helping my mother in the kitchen. I flinched when I heard her yelling, but was caught off guard when for once her screams weren't directed at me. When she went outside, I followed her because I stupidly wanted to be there for her. As soon as I realized what was happening, I was angry with my mother. Katniss was rummaging through our trash bins in search of food. When we went back inside, I burnt the loaves of bread I had been baking. My mother was livid. She grabbed the rolling pin and didn't hesitate before hitting me right on my cheekbone. _We want the District to remember us for being a_ good _bakery, you stupid boy! No one decent is going to buy burned bread! Now go feed it to the pigs!_ Thankfully, not long after we went outside a customer came in and she left me to it myself.

I will never forget that night under my old apple tree.

The next day, she noticed me for the first time at school. Out in the courtyard, I was watching her. I'd noticed that there was something different about her that day. I was trying to figure it out when she turned to look at me. I looked away, pretended to listen to what my friends were talking about. I could feel her eyes on me only a second longer. When I knew she wasn't looking, I turned back to her. She was kneeling on the ground, her hand holding a bright yellow dandelion. That was my last image of her. A tiny eleven-year-old Katniss Everdeen, her hair in a single braid, a beautiful yellow dandelion in her hand. I'd sketched that image countless times, and each time her features grew more and more obscure.

After she was Reaped, I had an entirely new collection of drawings.

Katniss was the most beautiful, intelligent, and courageous girl I'd ever seen. My love and admiration for her had never changed. I tried to talk to the girls here, but none of them ever caught my interest like she did. She's been the only girl on my mind.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to care for another girl like I do for Katniss." I confess to Haymitch after I finish.

Haymitch simply shakes his head. "You're too far gone, boy."

I meet his eyes and they hold a hint of sadness. He knows how serious I am, how much this hurts me. He understands. "Please don't ever tell her."

Haymitch guffaws. "You won't ever have to worry about that."

I nod.

He turns the tap off and sits down on the closed toilet lid. "You've got me exhausted. All that from a few years?"

"I was a little kid." I say defensively.

Haymitch smirks. "I'm sure that's all it was."

After some prolonged silence, I clear my throat. "So, what did want to talk about today?"

He laughs. "I wanted to know how motivated you were to help the cause and set some rules but, boy, you sound like you're married to the woman."

My jaw hardens. "Rules?"

Haymitch sobers immediately and stares at me hard. "The rebel cause is important to us. Any risk of exposure and we will not hesitate to think about the cause first. Freeing Panem is our one and only goal. At the center of that? Katniss. She's the most important person to us. Besides doing everything we ask of you, you can not talk about this to anyone. It doesn't matter if they tell you they're part of the cause. You can't trust anyone here but Paylor unless she tells you otherwise. Got it?"

He talks so low and fast, it's hard to follow. "Of course."

Pleased, Haymitch stands. "I don't think I'll see you again for a while. I'll leave a number under your doormat where you can contact me whenever you want to know how Katniss is doing. I hope I don't ever have to hear any bad news about you."

"You won't have to worry." I assure him.

"I know," he says. "Be careful. I like you."

I let out a small breath, "Thank you."

Haymitch walks to the door and opens it for me. "I'll let Paylor know we're done. Wait a minute before you exit the train." With that, I exit his room and he closes the door softly behind me.

I don't move a muscle. I just stand outside his door. What time was it? How long had I spent talking about Katniss and a . . . _rebellion_?

That's when I hear the scream.

I'm immediately on alert, trying to locate where the sound came from. It's faint, farther down the hall. I run, not stopping until I can hear it clearly. A door opens for me.

When I step inside, I see Katniss writhing in her bed, tossing erratically. I go to her and gently try to wake her up, but it doesn't work. She's deep in her sleep. I sit down beside her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her body towards mine. I put my mouth to her ear and whisper anything that could help soothe her.

Katniss wakes up with a desperate gasp and her arms wrap tightly around me. I'm nervous, stunned. I barely manage to get my words out, "You're okay, Katniss. You're okay."

Suddenly, at the sound of my voice, Katniss pulls away and her wild eyes meet mine. "What are you doing?" She rasps out.

Quickly, I say the first thing that comes to mind. "I was with Haymitch discussing the idea of bringing some of our cakes back home with you for the Harvest Festival in Twelve."

She's visibly confused. I can hear her breathing slowly go back to a normal pace. "Since when does Haymitch care about something like the Harvest Festival?"

"He doesn't, not really," I say smoothly. "But my parents brought it up to me and insisted on sending me here to talk to him about it. I'm assuming he hates interacting with people because he agreed after a few words and bought five of our bestselling cakes from when we were in Twelve."

Her eyes become less tense. She seems a bit more relaxed, "Oh."

"Yeah," I say, nodding.

Katniss narrows her eyes at me. "Why did you come in here?"

This time I don't have to lie. "I heard you screaming and I came in here to make sure you were okay. You were having a bad dream."

Her laugh is hollow at my last words and she wipes the sweat that had formed on her forehead. "But why would you come in here?"

I shrug. "Why wouldn't I? You were screaming."

She meets my eyes for a second before looking away. "No one else does."

"I'm sorry," I offer pathetically.

She doesn't say another word.

"I should probably be on my way now, it's late," I say, trailing off. "Am I going to get a thank you?"

This throws Katniss off guard and she turns to me with an incredulous look on her tired face. "What?"

I chuckle. "I'm joking. Good night, Katniss." I reach for her hand and give it a tight squeeze before getting up to leave.

"Wait," Katniss says suddenly. I look back at her and her eyes are scared, desperate. "Will you stay with me? Only long enough for me to fall asleep, I'm just—I'm just afraid that . . ." Her voice is so broken, I can't begin to fathom a response. Without a word, I reach out and pull her into a hug, holding her head softly in the crook of my neck.

"As long as you need." Katniss pulls away, hesitantly laying down and turning away from me. It doesn't take long before I hear her breathing slow. I watch her for a few minutes to make sure she's asleep before I get up to go.

Quickly, I press a soft kiss to her temple and find myself frozen in that moment. "Always," I whisper to her softly. It's incredibly harder to make my way out of her room than it was the last time.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It was something soft and sweet that I felt we really needed. Our protagonists really needed it too. Peeta's ever the boy in love and Katniss is still a sixteen-year-old girl who's haunted by the nightmares that plague her and simply wants some semblance of home. I feel that people forget that sometimes. In the end, they were just kids. Two teens whose lives were changed forever. I'm just always glad that they were able to find each other in the end. I will always root for their love. I'll see you all soon (;_

With love, Daisy


	6. Cozy

**Katniss**

The sun rays streaming through my window wake me up much earlier than I want. I groan, cursing myself for not shutting the blinds the night before. But I'd just been so focused on the stars, convinced they would be the key to sleep. They did nothing for me.

I scowl when my eyes land on my dresser. I yank open the drawer and find the bottle of pills, grabbing them and storming into the bathroom. As soon as I get inside I prop up the lid of the toilet and dump them all inside the bowl. After I flush it gives me immense satisfaction watching them swirl into nothing.

While I'm in there I brush my teeth and wash my face still stained from my tears the night before. I flush as the thought of last night's events flood my mind. Had Peeta Mellark really been on the train? Did he really wake me from my nightmares and stay with me until I fell asleep? Had I really _asked_ him to?

My mother and Prim usually ignore my screams in the night. If they get too bad, they wake me. I refuse to let my mother use any of her remedies she says will relieve my anxiety because I'm too afraid of becoming addicted and relying on them to simply live like the Morphlings do. There are two kinds of people I've never wanted to become, and those are my mother after my father's death and the Morphlings.

This time when I go down to breakfast, Haymitch is there eating bread with some jam. "Haymitch."

He looks up and nods in greeting. "Good morning, sweetheart."

I can't help it. "Did you buy cakes from the Mellark's last night?" I blurt out.

Haymitch raises his eyebrows. "I don't know. Were you spying on me last night?"

I take a seat and push back my hair. Why hadn't I re-braided it already? "No. It's just . . ." I trail, not knowing how to answer his question. "I think Peeta Mellark woke me from a nightmare last night and I wasn't sure if I'd just imagined it or not."

"You were alone with a boy in your room?" He asks.

Now it's my turn to scowl. "I was asleep."

Haymitch smirks, satisfied. "Sure. I bought a couple cakes. Didn't think it'd hurt."

I furrow my brows. "Weren't you just suggesting that he was a spy when we were on the Tour? And now you're buying his family's cakes?"

"I used to buy from that bakery," Haymitch says. "I didn't know that before. Now eat."

I take a seat across from him and an Avox immediately brings me my breakfast.

* * *

After I shower, I put on some black slacks and throw on a deep blue long-sleeved shirt. I zip up a pair of long black boots that end just above my knees and find my way to the exit of the train.

Effie sees me just as I'm approaching the door. "Where are you going, Katniss?"

I fight a scowl and put on a pleasant smile, just as she'd taught me before my interview with Caesar. "For a walk. I hate being cooped up in here."

Effie pouts. "I'm sorry, darling. I'll ask the conductor about what's taking so long. Hopefully we'll be moving soon. Don't be gone too long, and remember, stay within the range of the Peacekeepers!"

"Don't worry Effie," I say as I climb out. "I'll be back soon."

I follow the path to the bakery with my head down. I don't know if the people of Eight know it's my train that's here, but if they don't then I don't want to be the one to let them know.

It's almost ten so I know that the bakery is open. When I enter, a bell jingles and I'm relieved to find that it's empty.

Mrs. Mellark appears through the kitchen doors and her eyes immediately go wide. "Katniss. Everdeen. Wel—welcome."

A scowl settles itself on my face. "Is your son home?"

Her eyes narrow. Of course her distrust has not wavered in the years she's been gone from Twelve. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to discuss the cakes we want to bring back with us for the Harvest Festival," I say. "With someone more pleasant."

She scowls. "Watch it, young lady. Being a victor doesn't erase the fact that you're still from the Seam."

I walk towards her, stoic. "And I can still take my business elsewhere. Your bakery isn't necessarily missed."

Her jaw clenches and her face reddens. "Only my youngest is home, but he's new to this—"

"I want to speak with him." I interrupt. "Now."

With her own scowl, Mrs. Mellark disappears through a door to the left of the register and I hear her yell for Peeta. I immediately hear his loud steps pound down the stairs. When the sound of his steps halt, it takes a few minutes before he appears, his mother right on his heels. "We're ready to speak with you."

I shake my head. "Just him. I don't need you anymore, thank you."

Peeta gapes at me and he winces a bit when she places a hand on his arm. "Be smart, Peeta. Seam sluts have a way of . . . _manipulating_ you reckless boys from Town. We can only be thankful that there's no slag heap here." She says, pretending to lower her voice but knowing full well that I can hear her.

"Bye mother." he says. Peeta grabs an old book from behind the counter and asks me to follow him. Peeta leads me through the door he came from and we settle down at a table I assume is in the living room. "Katniss."

"Good morning," I greet, finding myself shy now that I'm alone in his presence. This makes Peeta smile.

"It's nice to see you again," he says. "How did you sleep?"

I swallow hard. "After that little hiccup, well actually."

He strains a smile, something clearly on his mind. He finally asks and I wince. "Does that happen every night?"

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Yes, but it's not always that bad. I'd taken a sleeping pill. It helped, but then I couldn't wake myself up from the nightmares."

"You've never taken them before?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No. I've been too scared to turn into a Morphling."

Peeta grimaces. "Yeah, that wouldn't be any good."

Nodding, I bite the inside of my cheek and hope that he drops it at that.

"Why'd you decide to take them last night?" He asks.

A bitter smile finds a place on my lips. "I haven't been sleeping well, especially now that I can't get home. Effie noticed the bags under my eyes and lectured me about sleeping to make myself _easier on the cameras_. And then she gave me the pills. So I decided to try one."

Peeta doesn't look impressed. "You don't need any help in front of the cameras. You always look perfect."

I decide to ignore the compliment. He has no idea the amount of work my prep team has to go through before Cinna deems me appropriate for the cameras. "What did you bring with you?"

He glances down as if he'd forgotten what I'm supposedly here for. "Oh. It's a book with information about our cakes."

"You've already discussed that with Haymitch, right?" I ask. "You brought it with you last night?"

Peeta nods. "Yeah, I just brought it in case you wanted to look through it. You used to like looking at the cakes on display, right?"

I'm caught off guard by this comment. My father and I used to admire them all of the time. "Yes," I say.

"Here, take a look," he says, sliding the book towards me. "There are drawings of the plain cakes and some with designs."

I take the book in my hands and trace my fingers over the cursive print on the cover, _Mellark Bakery_. As soon as my eyes land on the first page I'm in awe. The drawing is so lifelike, it could be a photograph or even the actual cake itself. It's covered in white frosting and has pretty green leaf detailing. There are swirls of blue around it to represent a pond, and my eyes trace the tiny blue flowers and roots. I gasp when I identify the plant. Katniss.

"How does it look?" Peeta asks, his voice slightly higher.

It's hard to tear my eyes away from the drawing, but I do to meet his blue eyes. "It's beautiful. It's so lifelike. Did you hire an artist for these?"

Peeta goes red. "Actually, I drew everything in the book."

My mouth falls open, stunned. "Really?"

"Yes," he smiles, nodding toward the picture. "How'd I do on the arrowhead? I've only ever seen it in an old book I found in the library at my school. I wasn't even sure it was an accurate picture—"

"Peeta, it's perfect." I interject. "You've really never seen one before?"

He shakes his head. "No."

I turn back to the book and gently hover my fingers over the image, afraid that if I actually make contact with the paper that I'll ruin his beautiful art. "You're so talented."

"Not as talented as you," he says. "With the bow. And your hunting skills."

I look up. "I'm alright. But this? I had to make up my own talent for the Capitol. All of my _designs_ are Cinna's extra stuff put on the back-burner that he knew he was never going to use. You'd be a perfect victor."

"If I went into The Hunger Games, I wouldn't come back out." Peeta blurts.

This silences me.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes when I don't say anything. "But it's true. You know when someone is capable of becoming a victor. Everyone knew you were going to come home. At least, I did. But if you saw me get Reaped, would you bet on me?"

I shake my head. "That's not fair, I don't know if you have any skills or—"

Peeta chuckles. "It's okay, Katniss."

Flustered, I turn back to the book and flip the page. I'm awestruck all over again. This one has lilies with exquisite detailing. They look like the lilies I saw in my Games. I start thinking about my plant book back at home. "I wish I could draw like this. I have a book that I write information about plants in, and I can never recreate them like I want to. My drawings are always wrong."

"I'd draw them for you if I still lived in Twelve," he says in reply. "You'd have to be good at describing though, because I don't think I could ever go in the woods." Thinking of Peeta in the woods reminds me of Madge back home, who had been so eager for me to take her into the depths of the trees. I remember how she told me that she would hire an artist for me if she could.

My eyes light up and I look at him again. "I'm great at describing my plants. You have to be precise, because one wrong detail and I could be describing something entirely different." I bite my lip. "And I brought the plant book with me. It's a really calming activity, so I thought it would help keep me busy."

Peeta grins. "Does that mean you want me to draw some things for you?"

The nervous smile that comes through without my consent makes his grow bigger. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," he says a little loud. "I do. It'd be an honor."

I'm elated. Whether he's more eager than I wouldn't be an easy question to answer. "I don't know when we're going to leave, would you want to start working on it today? It's in my room back on the train."

"Do you want to start right now?" Peeta asks. "Haymitch and I already worked everything out with the cakes."

"Come on then." I say, standing up.

Peeta stands and I reach for his hand. He hesitates at first, but holds it tightly in his hand when he finally meets mine.

The look on his mother's face when she sees has me grinning the entire way back to the train.

When we get to my room, I let go and lay the bakery book on my bed gently. I walk to my bedside table and pull out my plant book. I hold it out to him and quickly cross my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt to protect myself from his oncoming comments. "Don't laugh when you see my drawings. I tried my best."

Peeta smiles and takes it in his hands. His eyes are thoughtful as he looks through the book. "Your drawing are fine. Yeah, I might mistaken a few for others, but—"

I smack his arm and yank the book out of his hands. "Stop that."

"Sorry," he says, grinning. "What would you like me to do first?"

I flip through the book, looking for the katniss root. When I find it, I hold it out to him. "Katniss."

Peeta nods and looks around my room. His eyes land on my window seat in my alcove and he goes over to it and sits down. I go back to the drawer and take out a pack of graphite pencils before meeting him there. "Here."

"Thank you." He says. Peeta pats the cushion to his left and I sit down. "This might bore you."

I laugh at his warning. "No, this is exciting. I'll finally have good pictures in my plant book."

"What do you want me to do?" He asks.

"Can you draw all of its forms? And maybe a small lake? That's where I find mine." I ask.

Peeta nods. "Yeah."

I'm amazed when he begins to draw and his pictures come to life. I can't tear my eyes away. By the time he's finished, I'm unaware any time has passed at all.

I ask him to draw nightlock next. _Never these, Katniss_. I can still hear my father saying those exact words when we would be out in the woods and I was so hungry I just wanted to pop the juicy looking berries in my mouth.

Peeta swears that he's only ever seen them in my Games but they're so lifelike, I want to doubt him. Except Peeta's never lied to me.

When dinner time comes around, Effie comes for me as usual. At the sight of Peeta, she goes insane. "Katniss! What is a boy doing in your room? Unsupervised! I ought to tell your mother about this."

I blush. "Effie, this is Peeta. He's helping me with some drawings in my family's plant book. We're taking home some of his family's cakes for the Harvest Festival."

Effie blinks. "What's wrong with our cakes?"

"Nothing, Effie," I reassure her, "Is it time to eat?"

Effie steps inside my room and walks over to us. "Hello, Peeta. I'm Katniss' escort, Effie Trinket."

Peeta stands and shakes her hand, giving her a kiss on the cheek. This makes her smile wide. "I know who you are, Miss Trinket. I'm Peeta Mellark, son of Eight's baker."

"Well, Mr. Mellark. You're a very fine gentleman." She says. "Would you like to join us for dinner today?"

"Actually, Effie," I say. "Could you ask for my dinner to be brought to my room? An extra meal for my guest, too, please. We'd like to get as much done as we can before we have to leave. He's very talented."

Effie puckers her lips, disappointed. "I suppose. I spoke to the conductor and he said that we'll be leaving tomorrow night."

I falter. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes," she smiles. "I told them how badly you've missed home and how excited we all are for the Festival and they assured me that we would leave by tomorrow night."

She's so proud that I have to force a smile on my lips. "Thank you, Effie."

Effie nods proudly. "I'll go tell them to bring your food here."

After she leaves, I let out a sigh. I turn to him and smile halfheartedly. "Are you hungry?"

Peeta shrugs. "I was enjoying myself. Is everything okay?"

I nod, though I know that he's aware it's a facade. Peeta quietly continues drawing as we wait for our dinner.

The Avoxes arrive with a knock at the door. I tell them to come in and a team rushes in. One Avox presses a button that expands my coffee table and three other Avoxes lay out our entire meal. They serve our drinks and set the table, making it all look perfect. I thank them as they leave and Lavinia is quick to catch my eye. Her eyes look smug as she makes obvious faces towards Peeta, and I hate that my face gets red.

"It's true then?" Peeta asks after the door closes behind them. "About them not being able to speak? I always thought it was something they said to scare us."

My eyes meet his, but I can't seem to read them. "It's very true."

Peeta takes my lead when I go to the table and sit down. He sits across from me and I watch on as his eyes take in all of the food. He looks so overwhelmed, it's almost cute. It reminds me of when Prim and I went properly shopping for food in Town. We laid out our haul on the table and her eyes marveled at the food. It was the most we'd ever seen in our home at one time. "Are you sure this is okay? For me to stay and eat here?"

"Yes," I say. Anyone else would have dug right in, but not Peeta. Even though I doubt he has something fresh to eat every single day. "I couldn't eat this all by myself. And I think they're glad I finally have company."

He grins. "Thank you for letting me join you."

Peeta doesn't begin eating until after I take my first bite but after that he can't stop. I'm tempted to warn him about not stuffing himself sick but I decide against it. My own meal is made very enjoyable by how much he relishes the food. It makes my heart churn wishing I could do this for everyone else in Panem whose had to suffer on empty bellies in their life.

By the time we've both laid our silverware down, Peeta almost looks green. He startles me when he places a hand on mine across the table. "Thank you for letting me join you."

I smile at his sincerity. "Thank you for helping me with my plant book. My father would have loved to see your drawings."

I wasn't sure if Peeta remembered my father's death, but the sadness that overtakes his features leaves me in danger of tears. "He would have been so proud of you, Katniss."

"I hope so," I say quietly in return.

To change the topic, I call for the Avoxes to remove the aftermath of our dinner from my room. I even request a pitcher of water so Peeta can have something to sip on to quell his queasy stomach. I hope he doesn't go hungry for a long time.

We regain our old spots and Peeta happily goes through the book sketching whatever I ask him to. The activity is so relaxing that I find my eyes drooping closed. I rest my head on Peeta's shoulder to get a closer look as he works while also relieving some of the pressure from my stiffening neck. It must have been not long after when I fell asleep.

"Katniss?"

My eyes open to find myself in the same exact position I was in before. Only Peeta isn't drawing anymore. "What?"

He chuckles. "It's getting late and it looks like you're tired. I should get home and you should get some rest. I told you it would be boring."

"It wasn't boring," I argue.

Peeta looks at me skeptically. "If you say so."

I scowl, removing my head from its place on his shoulder and stretching. I notice that it's dark outside. How long had I been asleep?

Peeta has placed himself at my door. His hands are in his pockets and he stands awkwardly, as if not knowing what to do. I don't blame him because I don't either.

"Thank you again for coming," I say, placing the book and pencils back in my bedside drawer. "The book means a lot to me. I started working on it a little while after I began hunting again and it's been something I've carried on ever since."

"I'm glad that you let me work on it with you." Peeta says. "I know it must be very special to you."

It is. "It's going to be hard to add my own drawings in beside yours now."

He laughs, "They will look just fine."

Not knowing what else to say, I sit down on my bed and mess with my fingers.

"Would it be alright if I brought over some cheese buns for lunch tomorrow?" Asks Peeta. "As a thank you and goodbye?"

I jump at the offer. "I'd like that."

Peeta's smile turns into one of relief and he runs his hand through his curly blond hair. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow?

I smile in return. "See you tomorrow."

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Hey guys! I'm having a good day today so I decided to post this today. You guys don't know how happy it made me when I wrote this chapter. I know it made my heart melt writing it. It's going to be so sad having to split them apart next chapter but I know we'll all get through it! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter of The Spark. Please leave a review for me, and follow if you haven't already (:_

With love, Daisy


	7. Goodbye

**Peeta**

It's quarter to noon when I turn off the oven which has just finished baking the half-dozen of cheese buns I'm taking over to Katniss. I'm glad it's a Sunday with no school and slow business as usual.

I'd decided to be there at twelve thirty.

By now, three of the five cakes Haymitch and I settled on last night were done. I hated leaving Katniss, but I knew that curfew would approach sooner than I'd expect and Haymitch and I had to create the cakes we'd told Katniss about.

When I snuck into our room last night and proposed that I make three of the cakes and Rye the remaining two, he wasn't happy. It took a whole lot of begging and an intricate detailing of my evening with Katniss before he finally agreed.

As promised, my brother woke me up at four thirty and I got to work immediately. I was done with my fare by eleven. I was just going to shower and then I'd put the buns in a box and go over to her.

"Oh, Peeta!" Rye sings out.

I turn to find him at the door watching me with the biggest grin on his face. "Rye?"

He saunters over to me and rests a hand on my shoulder. Rye is the shortest of the three of us, yet he's still stronger than Bran, and arguably me. I'm short of Bran by an inch. "You ready for your date?"

I stiffen and I'm sure my face grows as red as the welts I get after my mother hits me. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on," Rye laughs. "She's leaving tonight and she wants to spend her last day here with you. You'd be an idiot to think it means nothing."

I shake my head. "It's Katniss Everdeen. It couldn't mean anything."

He rolls his eyes and walks away from me. "Repeat that first sentence. _It's Katniss Everdeen_. The very reason for your existence. And the reason why none of your relationships last longer than a few months. . . and why you haven't dated anyone since her Reaping. You still love her."

"That's insane." I huff. "I haven't seen her for years. I can't love someone I barely know."

Rye raises his eyebrows. "Yet you still do."

"Have fun with the cakes."

My shower is unpleasantly filled with thoughts of Katniss. Not only does Rye knows he's right, but my body does too. It took years before I thought that I had finally convinced myself that I was over her. But as soon as I saw her on the screen the day of Prim's reaping, it was as if I was back in Twelve again. Now I'm actually talking to her. Spending time with her. The thought of her leaving tonight sends tears to my eyes.

When I make my way back into the kitchen, the buns have already been boxed. Rye grins and readily places them in my hands. "Go have the best day of your life. You're probably never going to see her again."

My heart sinks. "Well thanks for that." I punch his arm and make my way out of the bakery seven minutes before twelve thirty.

I'm surprised to find Katniss waiting for me outside of the train. She waves me over and I pick up my pace.

"Hey," I greet her when I finally reach the train. "How are you?"

"I'm alright. How are the cakes?" She asks.

My eyes light up. "Almost done. There are two more left to make, my brother and father should bring them over shortly before you leave."

Katniss' smile falls a little. "Oh. That's good."

I nod. "You must be really homesick."

"Yeah," she says quietly. "Let's go."

Katniss leads me into the train. When we reach her room, she continues walking down the hall. I'm confused but decide against asking her where we're going.

It's well worth it.

"They call this the sun room." She says. "I come down here when I'm awake and we're traveling. There's not much to see now, but it's amazing when the train is moving and we leave everything behind. My favorite time to be here is at night. The stars shine bright in the blur of the darkness."

We sit down on the plush carpet floor and Katniss just stares outside. I don't want to be the first to break the silence.

"I wish you could see how it looks when the train is moving," she says softly. "It really is beautiful. And I'm sure you could capture it on paper."

I chuckle. "If I ever got to see it, I'd surely be off to my death."

Katniss shoves me away from her. "Don't say that."

"It's true," I laugh, "If I go in, I'd have to be really lucky to get out of the Games alive."

Her silence pulls my attention, and I find her staring at a space in the distance. "What are you thinking about?"

She closes her eyes and takes a slow breath. "The Games."

"I'm sorry, Katniss," I whisper. It was stupid of me to think they could be something to joke about. Especially with her.

She laughs coldly. "Don't. Don't do that. You don't have to tiptoe around me."

Now I'm confused. "I didn't mean—"

"Just shut up," she says, but there's no malice in her voice. I do. "Ready to draw?"

A smile finds its way onto my face as she hands me her plant book. I'd completed five drawings for her yesterday. "Always."

She looks at me funny. "Do you want to be an artist?"

I cock an eyebrow, "It wouldn't be a smart choice. I'd live my life in poverty doing the thing I love."

Katniss winces. "But do you want to?"

"I used to, but a long time ago. I was in Twelve then," I say, shrugging. "I don't mind the bakery. It's my whole life. I couldn't see myself doing anything else."

She nods. "It's a shame that no one else outside of Eight is ever going to see your art."

A laugh escapes me, "I don't mind that. My personal drawings are just for me."

Katniss opens her plant book for me and looks through the pages, seemingly searching for something in particular. When she finds a page, I bite my lip to keep from saying anything stupid. "Do you think you could draw this for me? I wrote down its information, but I couldn't draw it myself. Not if I couldn't do it justice."

I read what she has written for rue. At that very end of the entry, I can see that she's erased something she had written. "I don't want to mess it up either."

"You couldn't," she says. I look in her eyes and see the hurt. This girl is so broken yet still so beautiful. I could never deny her anything she asks of me. If she asked me to lead a revolt in Eight, I'd try my best to give it to her. "Please?"

With her final word, I draw the beloved plant as she describes every single detail of the plant in all of its forms.

* * *

When I feel a shift in lighting, I look up to find that the sun is beginning to set. Katniss had ordered a pot of chocolate with various fruits sometime earlier and she'd been eating that as I drew. I only ever took a few pieces of the fruit. I could tell that Katniss was very fond of the chocolate and chose to leave it for her. Aside from my fear that I'd overindulge again. The few bits of chocolate I did manage to taste were easily some of the most amazing things I've ever eaten.

"The sun is starting to set," Katniss says after seeing me stare outside. "There are lights in here that I could turn on—"

"No," I interrupt. She looks at me, confused. "I want to show you something."

Now she looks nervous. "I don't know if I want to go out into the District, no one has made a fuss about me yet and I don't want to be seen."

I smile and pat one of her hands. "We don't have to move from this spot. We're going to watch the sunset."

Katniss doesn't look convinced. "Peeta, I've seen a sunset before."

"Not with me," I say. This earns me a smile.

"Let's watch a sunset then." she says, taking the book and pencil from my hands and setting it aside. Katniss pops a few more pieces of fruit in her mouth before setting that aside too and taking a seat to my left. Together we watch the sky transform.

Neither of us says a word. I can feel Katniss relax beside me as she watches the sun dip lower to the ground. I don't either until I see the exact shade I've been searching for. "Do you see the color? Between the pink and the blue? Over by those clouds?"

She puts a hand over her eyes and looks in the direction of where I'm pointing. I know the exact moment she finds the color when her eyes soften. "That's beautiful, Peeta. I don't think I've ever seen an orange like that. I always thought it was one of the ugliest colors."

I whip around to face her, "Orange is my favorite color."

Katniss turns to me and makes a face. "Like my escort's hair?"

The hearty laugh that comes out of me does so without my consent, and it makes Katniss smile wide. "No, like the sunset."

Her mouth falls open and she chuckles a bit. Actually chuckles. "That would make a lot more sense."

Now I'm well aware of my laughter. "The shade she wears _is_ pretty terrifying. How could someone choose that over this?"

Katniss looks back to the sky and smiles. "I've never looked at orange that way before."

"Things like that," I say, pointing at the sky, "Should never be overlooked."

She nods, continuing to watch the sun. "I don't actually remember the last time I took the time to watch a sunset. I think it was in the Games. But theirs was so artificial, too perfect."

"Nothing perfect ever happens on purpose," he says. "The more orchestrated, the worse."

Katniss nods thoughtfully. "Maybe, but I just think that anything the Capitol creates is bound to cause trouble."

Too soon, the sky is a pool of blue and all traces of the sun are gone. Only the moon is visible in the dark sky. I look over at Katniss and see that she's focused on the sky, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. She's never more beautiful than in these times. I see a piece of hair fall over her right eye and decide to reach over and tuck it behind her ear. She startles at the movement and jumps. "Sorry," I whisper.

"It's okay," she says back, averting her eyes from me and to the hands in my lap. "You just scared me."

I nod, too busy trying to figure out what she's thinking. In the darkness of the room, it's almost too silent. But it feels too good to be wrong. Katniss leans her head on my shoulder and I nearly stop breathing. If I would've known that moving to Eight would bring me closer to Katniss than staying in Twelve, I would have never shed a single tear. I'm too afraid to move in fear of scaring her away or ruining the moment.

Too soon Katniss lifts her head to look at me. "It's late."

"Yeah," I agree softly, afraid she'll be able to hear the disappointment in my voice.

"You should go before they sound the warning, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble," she says, standing up. I grab her book off of the floor and scoop the pencil up in my other hand before standing.

"Thank you for letting me do this." I say. "It was nice getting to draw for you."

She stares for me a moment as I stand beside her. Finally, she speaks, "I'll never understand you, Peeta."

Katniss takes back her things then, waiting for me to speak. "Is there a chance that that's a good thing?"

When our eyes meet again, a smile finds its place on her lips. "It could only ever be a good thing."

"So what does it mean?" I risk asking, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her eyes find the sky once again and I'm taken aback by how they shine in the natural light. How is it possible that I'm standing here with this unbreakable woman? And suddenly it hits me that I'm never going to be in her presence again. When she turns back to me and sees the turmoil in my eyes, she bites her lip. "Are you thinking about the bread?"

I shake my head. I wouldn't ever have the courage to tell her what I was thinking. But I am surprised. "You remember that?"

She looks down at her feet and her voice barely carries over to my ears. "That bread gave me hope. I could never forget that." Katniss opens the book once again to some pages near the middle. The page she shows me holds images of a dandelion. She hovers her fingers over the writing for a moment before she turns to the very last two pages of the book. Inside, she has pressed a dandelion between the pages. "I picked this that next day. It reminded me that I was not doomed."

My heart is beating so fast that I'm afraid I'll pass out. "I had to do something,"

Katniss' eyes are ablaze when she looks at me. "No. You didn't. No one else ever did anything. When we were dying of starvation, no one helped me. But you—you took a beating to give me burned bread." When my face heats up at her words, she shakes her head incredulously. "And you're embarrassed by that. Without that burned bread, I'm not sure if my family could've survived the night. I will forever remain in your debt."

"You've given me more than enough these past couple of days," I say. "I will never be able to repay _you_."

"What do you mean?" asks Katniss. "You helped me with my family's plant book."

I laugh, my voice almost giving away my feelings. "And you've done more than enough by simply allowing me to be with you."

"What?" her eyes are so confused. She's so pure, I couldn't burst her protective bubble if I wanted to. "Is that because—"

I kiss her. I kiss her because I can't stand to hear whatever she has to say, so I do the only thing that I can think to stop her. I'm so shocked that only the feel of her soft lips finally moving against mine make me realize what is happening. I'm kissing Katniss Everdeen. And Katniss Everdeen is kissing me. When she breaks the kiss, I'm in absolute awe.

"Because I'm a victor?" she finishes softly, her own eyes filled with wonderment.

Not wanting to anger her, I simply shake my head. "I hope you have a safe trip back to Twelve."

Her silver eyes falter, and suddenly I feel her become the guarded girl I knew. "Okay."

My eyes fall to the book in her hands. I still couldn't believe that she'd saved it. "Bye, Katniss."

"Bye, Peeta," she says back. I don't risk a glance at her face, I make my way to the door instead. Just as the door opens, I feel hear hand on my shoulder I turn around to find her looking up at me sadly. "Thank you."

I'm numb as I nod. "Stay safe."

I don't even realize what she's doing as I watch her go on her tiptoes until her soft lips press against my left cheek. I could almost swear that they lingered for a second. But too soon she was back on her feet. "You too." This time when I turn around, I don't look back.

* * *

 **Katniss**

Long after he's gone, I'm still in the same place that he left me. With my free hand, I reach up and press the pads of my fingers to my lips. I kissed Peeta. I can't believe that I kissed him. My first kiss was with Peeta Mellark.

Lavinia comes in and prods at me with her curious eyes. They ask of Peeta.

"I'm never going to see him again," I say. "He's gone."

She quietly gathers the pot and remaining fruit. I don't notice that she's still there until she lays a hand on my elbow and gently pulls me along with her. She drops me off at my room and leaves. After I finally find it in me to do something, I'm putting away the pencils when Lavinia walks in with a cup of hot chocolate.

"Thank you," I say to her, setting the mug down on my bedside table.

Lavinia grabs the plant book before I set it down in the drawer beside the pencils. I look at her and she has an eyebrow raised. She wants to see the book.

I give it to her and sit down on my bed. "Peeta was helping me with some of the drawings in my plant book."

I open it for her and show her the first page with a drawing of Peeta's in it. Her eyes widen and she looks at me. _Did he really do that?_

A small laugh bubbles out of me and I nod. "I watched him do it myself."

We sit together as Lavinia rifles through the book, looking for the drawings that were clearly done by Peeta. The look of approval in her eyes makes me feel an odd sense of pride for Peeta.

"He's talented, isn't he?" I ask, tracing my fingers over the rue plant he'd drawn only hours ago.

Lavinia startles me when she places a hand over my heart, a sad look in her eyes.

"Yes, I miss Rue," I say, looking back to the page. Lavinia shakes her head. I look back to her face and she presses the space in my chest where my heart is harder. "Prim?" Again, she is dissatisfied with my guess. I'm usually good at knowing what she means. Lavinia points fiercely at the drawing and I finally realize what she means. My eyes meet hers once again, "Peeta?"

She nods, pulling her hand away and placing it over her own heart.

"Am I going to miss him?" I ask. She smiles sadly. A winner. "I barely know him, I couldn't miss someone after only seeing them for a few days."

Lavinia cocks an amused eyebrow and my cheeks burn. I shake my head and Lavinia decides to leave it be. Before she leaves, she gives me a warm pat on the shoulder and I thank her again for the hot chocolate.

When my first thought after taking a sip is that I wish Peeta could have tried some, I slam the book into the drawer and close it. _I've only known him for a few days_. I'm never going to see him again. It will do me no good caring for him. _Stupid, stupid, stupid, Katniss_.

I can't wait to be home.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Are you guys as excited as I am?! Or has that excitement dissipated and given into sadness that their time together is over? Because that is now where I'm at lol. That kiss was not initially supposed to happen, but I was in progress of writing one of the later chapters when I realized that we needed something more here. We needed something more to prove their connection and give it some justice. So I came back and did a little revising and that's how we got where we did. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, as always, it was a joy. Oh, and before I go, due to me updating my story_ For Better or Worse _, I will not be posting a second chapter of this story this week... I'm sorry! You guys should go check it out for me while you wait for chapter eight next week. Don't forget to follow or leave a little review!_

With love, Daisy


	8. Festival

**Katniss**

I'm already awake by the time we arrive in Twelve. I'm sitting just outside the exit doors when the train finally stops. I hoist the small bag with my few belongings higher on my arm as Effie enters the train car. "There you are! You weren't in your room and I worried that we left you behind in Eight. You really seemed to enjoy it there!"

My jaw clenches at her words. "No, Effie. I'm here. Can we say the same for Haymitch?"

Just then, my old mentor comes bustling in. "Aren't you ever the delight?"

"Haymitch!" Effie chastises, though there's a hint of a smile on her lips. "Are you all excited? Today is your homecoming!"

"Overjoyed," I whisper.

I'm the first one out when the doors finally open. I'm barely able to relish in the smell of my home District before I hear the dozens of cameras flashing. _Oh_. I forgot that the Harvest Festival was going to be televised because the Capitol was throwing it. Snow wants to show Panem that Twelve is more than just the District they kicked to the dust. That there are _actual_ people here as opposed to the limp savages they've seen in the Games.

Haymitch and I are forced to play nice for the cameras until Effie herself grows exhausted and we're driven back to our homes in the Victor's Village. My mother and Prim are waiting for me on our porch.

"Katniss!" my little sister exclaims as I exit the sleek car. I capture her in a tight hug. She's here, alive and well. I feel another pair of arms around me and see that my mother has joined, embracing us both. And suddenly I'm in danger of crying.

"We're glad you're home, Katniss," she says softly. "I missed cooking the game you'd bring home."

My heart aches. It's moments like these when I almost regret how cold I've been to her. But I could never forget, or even try to begin to forgive. "I'm glad to be home."

I'm so exhausted that I barely miss Cinna when I try to walk past the living room to get to the stairs that will lead me to my bedroom. It isn't until I hear him clear his throat that I turn around and see him "Got somewhere to be?"

"Cinna," I say, stunned. "You're here?"

My stylist comes over to me and gives me a long hug. "My last interview was cancelled, so I was able to make it here sooner than I expected. Guess that turned out to be good for me though, huh? Heard you were stuck in Eight for a while. I'm sorry about that."

"I am too," I mumble. But then I think of the severity of that statement and a blush spreads across my face. Did I really regret the events that happened in Eight? I remember all too late that Cinna is still with me.

It's in this moment that I almost hate how well he knows me. "Did I miss something?"

One look in his eyes and I decide that I can't lie to him. Not blatantly, anyway. I just look away and know that he'll ask me again once we're in private.

My family and Cinna chat amicably between themselves in our living room. When my mother brings out tea and I watch Prim pile on her sugar I smile, remembering what Peeta said about her sugar habit. "Katniss?"

I look up and see my sister looking at me, her eyes shining and curious. "Yes?"

"Would you like some tea?" My mother asks. "I made plenty."

I can feel Cinna's curious eyes trained on me, so I accept. Before my mother can add the three tablespoons she knows I like, I stop her. "I'd like to try it without the sugar."

I sense Prim's disgust before she even opens her mouth. "No sugar in your tea? Katniss, are you alright? Are you sick?"

"No, Prim," I say, my cheeks turning red. "I just want to try something new."

"Yes, it's nice to try new things," Cinna adds. He takes a few more sips of his own tea before clearing his throat. "Katniss, are you ready to go up to your room now?"

Without hesitation, I nod. "Let's go."

As soon as we get to my room, Cinna is quick to close my door and head straight for the bathroom. I follow him inside and take a seat on the closed toilet lid. "Why don't we start you off with a bath after that long train ride?" He turns on the bath and I watch as he sets up everything he'll need on the counter.

When he's done with that, he turns back to me _just_ as I take a sip of my tea and make a face at its naturally bitter taste.

Cinna takes on a serious look in his eyes. "Did you see any floggings while you were there in Eight?"

My eyes widen. "No."

He looks relieved. "Are you in any trouble?"

"I guess you could say that," I admit quietly, not meaning to say it out loud.

Worry takes over his features and he raises a hand to his chin. "What happened?"

"Nothing bad," I say, my face beginning to feel hot.

Before he gets the chance to say anything in reply I can feel it in the tension that eases that he's relieved. "Then what's wrong, Katniss? We never keep secrets. I'm worried about you."

"I know." If there's anyone I feel absolutely guilty about not telling, it's Cinna. "I've just never . . ."

Cinna softens at my loss for words. He crouches down and holds my free hand in one of his. "You can trust me."

I'm tempted to lie. To tell him that I did see something in Eight. But I can't. With a final sigh, I look down at my cup as the words tumble out, "It's a boy."

When I get no response, I look up to see him staring at my tea. "Is that how he likes his tea?"

"What?" I ask, dumbfounded at his concern. "His tea?"

I can't read Cinna as he looks me in the eyes once again. I just nod and watch as he turns away. I don't say anything until he turns to me once again. "Did he come by the train?"

"Yes," I tell him, my voice lowering to a whisper. "Why?"

He breathes out a disappointed sigh. "Oh, Katniss. . ."

My blood turns cold and my whole body tenses at his reaction. I nearly drop my tea. "I'm stupid, aren't I? Haymitch told me not to drag anyone into this. And I did, didn't I?" And then a realization hits me. "Do you think he could be dead?"

Cinna pulls away and gently places a hand on either one of my arms. "Calm down, Katniss. It'll be okay. I'm sure he's fine."

I'm quiet for so long Cinna has to turn off the faucet so the bath doesn't overflow. By the time he's finished putting in all of the oils, I still haven't said a thing. Just before he leaves the bathroom so I can bathe on my own, I find my voice. "Cinna?"

"Yes, Katniss?" he asks, his voice indecipherable.

I take a deep breath, it's so shaky that I flinch. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

"Katniss," he begins, a soft touch to his voice, "With your heart in his hands, that boy has nothing to worry about."

I say nothing else as he leaves.

* * *

My hands travel down the warm fabric of my skirt, removing the sweat that has gathered in the moments I've sat on my couch waiting for the all-clear from Effie. I was instructed to stand at the door but the shoes Cinna has put me in have a wedge to them and I refuse to walk in them longer than I absolutely have to.

I huff as I feel more sweat begin to gather on my hands. My dress is made of a warm, heavy wool fabric to keep me warm while I'm at the Festival. I'm sure I won't be going cold because the combination of the heat ventilating through my house and this dress have me in danger of overheating. I make a face as I accidentally brush my hand against my shoes and my hands leave a mark on the leather. I wish that the Festival wasn't televised. I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb against the people from Twelve. I'm sure that everyone will be in their reaping attire but even their nicest clothes don't begin to compare to my lackluster outfit from the Capitol.

"Katniss? Katniss, dear, it's time for us to go!" Effie trills. "Our car is waiting!"

When I stand, it takes me a moment to keep my balance. I'd forgotten that these weren't my hunting boots. "I'm coming."

The car ride is full of Effie telling me how I need to act throughout the event and what I need to do for the cameras. I am to stay near the mayor and his party to make my comparison to the citizens easier on the eyes. I am to be at the head of every big act. I am to never lose my smile. When I joke and ask Effie if I'll be needing to ice my cheeks at the end of the night, she does not laugh.

By the time I arrive, the square is already packed. Everyone's eyes are eager as I step out of the vehicle. I feel guilty as I remember that the food would not be served until after my arrival. Who knows how long they have been waiting on me. I scurry over to the mayor immediately and graciously hug the Undersee family as the cameras follow my every move.

Officials announce that the food will be served just outside of the Justice Building and I watch as everyone eagerly gets in line. A plate of food is handed to me before I even think of joining the line and I'm seated with the mayor and his family at a table right in the center of the Square. I look around and watch how they've transformed the square. There are twinkling lights outlining the perimeter the party is held and where the cameras can see. Torches of fire are scattered throughout to keep everyone warm and cast a warm glow on the party. Wreaths of leaves and colorful corn and beads are placed all around. I take note of the happy, chatting faces and smile to myself. This is how I wish things could be in Twelve every day. With no fear of not being able to have a fully belly for the night. I wish that Peeta were still in Twelve to experience this.

"Are you okay, Katniss?"

I look to my right to find Madge taking a seat at my side. She's looking at me with concern in her eyes. Ever since I returned from my Games, her and I have solidified our friendship I'd speculated when she came to say goodbye to me before I was shipped off to the Capitol. I've grown to really appreciate her friendship. More so when I learned that she had a desire to go out into the woods and I was able to spend time with her in my happiest place, teaching her to shoot with the promise of warm tea at her home afterwards as she taught me to play piano. "How have you been?"

Madge raises an eyebrow, amused. "I asked you first. Now spill. You must've had an eventful two weeks."

I hate that my cheeks fill with color once again. Against my hopes that the cold will mask my blush, her mischievous smile tells me that she still noticed. "It was agonizing."

"Was it?" she asks. "Do you have anything anything specific you'd like to tell me?

Sighing, I turn to my plate. "Stop looking at me like that or I'll keep my secrets to myself."

She laughs, "Now I have to hear."

I glance around nervously and see that the cameras are trained on the people who are getting their food. I turn back to Madge who is eagerly awaiting what I have to say. "Do you remember Peeta Mellark?"

She visibly deflates. "Why are you stalling? What does Peeta Mellark have to do with you telling me about the great adventures of your tour?"

"Because I saw him while I was in Eight," I say quietly. Her mouth falls open.

" _Mellark Bakery_ Peeta Mellark?" asks Madge. "One who _up and left Twelve_ Peeta Mellark?"

I gently shove her with a laugh and nod. "Yes, that Peeta Mellark."

"What about him?" Madge prods, taking a bite of her vegetables. "Is he cute?"

My eyes widen and she giggles.

"What? He was cute back then. Is he still kind, or did he turn into a snobby person who thinks he's so much better now that he's left Twelve?" she inquires.

I try to suppress my smile while shushing her. "No, he's still nice."

"Yeah, I thought so," she says with a wink. "Now what's so significant about him?"

Now I debate actually stalling, but instead of wasting time and risking the cameras picking up my words, I quickly stuff a bite of roast turkey in my mouth before raising my napkin to _wipe my mouth_ and letting the words tumble out past my lips. "He kissed me."

Madge's eyes nearly pop out of her skull. " _What?_ "

"Shh," I beg, looking around. "I don't want people to hear."

"This is news!" she says. "How? Why?"

I take a few sips of my water as Madge patiently waits for me to continue. "I don't know, Madge. I'm still so confused."

Completely ignoring my concerns, Madge asks the real burning questions, "Was he a good kisser? Wait, no. Did you punch him?"

Biting my lip, I look to my food and avoid her gaze as I tell her what she's really dying to know, "I kissed him back."

"Katniss Everdeen!" she gasps, holding a pale hand up to her smiling mouth. "You didn't. What about Gale?"

 _Gale_. I can feel the color drain from my face. Her own smile falls.

"I'm sorry, Katniss, I didn't mean—" she stops herself, sensing I'm not paying attention to her words.

Shaking my head, I force a smile onto my face for the passing cameras. "I'm selfish."

Madge shakes her head and places a hand on mine. "No, Katniss. It was my mistake. I shouldn't have brought it up. I know that there's nothing between you two."

"But I am," I say. "Gale's been my best friend for years and I shut him down on live television. I spend a few days with Peeta, and I kiss him?"

"Katniss, honey, you can't help how you feel." Madge says. "I actually think that says a lot, and it's not something you should ignore."

I can't help it when I roll my eyes. "What does it matter? I'm never going to see him again."

She squeezes my hand gently, her eyes soft. "You only ever get yourself into trouble, don't you Everdeen?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

We both look up to find my hunting partner behind me. "Gale."

"Katniss," he says before turning to Madge. "Undersee."

Gale takes a seat to my left and nods to my nearly full plate. "I guess that you forget you ever went hungry when you get used to being overfed."

" _Gale_." Madge says through gritted teeth. "It's not the place."

Gale stares at my plate for a moment before looking back up to me. "I came to ask for a dance, but it looks like I'll have to wait."

"Just give me a few moments, please?" I say quietly. "I'll come find you when I'm finished."

I can see Gale feels guilty for his words, but he'll never apologize. Like me, he's too stubborn. Especially in admitting his own faults. He leaves without another word.

"You and Gale could never last a day," Madge says before turning to her food and beginning to eat.

I don't say another word as I begin to focus on my own plate, too.

Surprisingly, Madge finishes her food before I do. "I'll be surprised if this doesn't make me sick. But I've always loved the food from the Capitol. I eat too much every time I get the chance."

A thoughtful smile spreads across my face as I admire my friend. "I could order things for you from the Capitol."

"Oh no," she says immediately. "You've earned that money. Don't waste it on silly things like my food cravings. Go raid the sweet shop and eat yourself sick instead."

Only Madge would know how to cheer me up at a time like this. "Oh yeah, because that definitely sounds a lot more appealing."

As soon as my plate is cleared, I stand up to go find Gale. Madge catches my hand a moment before I'm out of reach. "I'm always here for you Katniss."

"Thank you," I whisper, squeezing her hand tightly before I make my way through the crowds. I find Gale a few tables away with his family and my mother and Prim. He's entertaining our sisters by throwing his vegetables in the air and trying to catch them in his mouth. Posy is nearly keeling over in her laughter. I smile. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

Gale looks up at me and I see a flicker in his eyes before they become guarded. "Hi."

"Can I take you up on that dance?" I ask, a soft smile on my lips. I see a barrier break in his eyes.

Standing up, he excuses himself from the girls before taking my hand and leading me to the small area reserved for dancing. There are people playing the fiddle and I feel myself relax at the tunes of the soft folk music. Now this is music. I hadn't realized that I missed it so much. When Gale rests his hands on my waist, it's almost natural when I wrap my arms around his neck. Together we sway to the soft music, neither of us saying a word. I'm so at ease that I rest my head on his chest.

I look up at him when I feel his grip on my waist become tighter. He meets my gaze and loosens his grip. "Sorry,"

Shrugging, I look away from his intense gaze. "It's alright. I'm just hot in this dress."

"You look nice, though." Gale offers. I roll my eyes.

"I can't wait to go home and tear these clothes off," I say. "The last thing I wanted to do when I returned was get dressed up again and have to parade myself in front of cameras _again_. This is supposed to be home. A place where I can relax. I almost wish that the Capitol wouldn't have thrown the Harvest Festival this year, but then I look at all the happy faces and remember that no one in the District will go to sleep with empty bellies tonight."

Gale doesn't say anything. Which is odd because he always has something to say. I look up to see he's already staring at me. "I've missed you, Catnip."

"I'm not the one who stopped talking to you," I say quietly, pulling away slightly.

Gale pulls me back to him with a sigh, "Kat—"

The song ends and a more upbeat one begins. I start to back away, but he pulls me back once more. That's when he kisses me. I don't pull away fast enough. "Gale!" It's too late, though. People have seen . . . and more people than just those here in Twelve.

Gale has a slight smile on his face and I'm trying to keep from breaking down while we're surely being filmed. I take a few deep breaths before putting a polite smile on my face. I'm sure my eyes speak for me. Still, his smile does not waver. "It's okay, Katniss. It's just for the cameras."

"I can't believe that you'd do that . . . just for the cameras," I whisper. "My life to the Capitol shouldn't just be a show."

"Is that not what it's been?" he asks, his face genuinely curious. "Katniss: the happy little victor who is ever so grateful to the Capitol?"

"I can take her from here, thank you," my mentor interrupts. One look in Haymitch's eyes and I can tell that he is not happy.

Haymitch drags me out of the square, far away from any cameras. We end up near the Hob.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks, his voice accusing.

I shake my head. "He kissed _me_. He kissed me!"

He scowls. "What is it with you and these boys, huh? You're not doing yourself any favors, sweetheart."

Now it's my turn to scowl. "What boys?"

"I thought you shut that one down?" he says. "The boy from Eight, and now this?"

"Haymitch, listen to me!" I say, though I falter at the mention of Peeta. "There is nothing going on between Gale and I. Not now. Not ever. And the boy from Eight is just that. A boy from Eight."

Though he looks unconvinced, Haymitch nods. "That's what it all better be. You know the risks. I told you in Eight—"

"I'm not in the mood for a lecture," I interject. "I heard you just fine in Eight."

He looks more sober than I've ever seen him before. "Then act like it."

And just like that my mentor leaves me alone in the stillness of the night. The sounds from the Festival are faint from here but I can still hear the fiddles playing their upbeat tune in the distance. The sound of laughter. I decide not to be mad with Gale. He's right. My life is a show for the Capitol's entertainment. I broke his heart on live television. Now he got to give me a kiss in front of the very same audience who was probably feeling bad for him as we danced. He got to show them that he wasn't going to let it end with my words in the Capitol.

That's when it hits me how much danger he has just put himself and his family in.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _First of all, I want to say that I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'm actually really fond of it myself. Katniss Everdeen letting her heart cloud her mind like every other teenage girl is heartwarming to me. Secondly, I want to let you all know that school for me is going to start up again very soon. I begin the 15th, and between work and school, there will not be a set day in which I will upload each week. Despite that, I will continue to update this story at least once a week, but the day(s) will vary depending on my schedule for each week. The upcoming 8th and 9th I have training days at my school in which I will prepare to lead some incoming freshman at my school on the 10th for their orientation. I'm sure you guys will still get two uploads though, so you won't have to worry about that! I hope to see you guys soon, thank you for reading and don't forget to drop me a review._

With love, Daisy


	9. Interlude

**Peeta**

 _Two nights before Harvest Festival_

I'm asleep when I hear the slight tone begin to sound. I'm caught so off guard that I nearly tumble off of my bed. I've had the device for weeks but I'm still not used to receiving her calls. It's the third time I'm thankful that Bran found a nice girl he was able to marry, leaving Rye to move into his old room. The first my fist night of getting blissful, uninterrupted sleep when I no longer had to listen to Rye snore every night. The second a morning after I caught Rye in bed with a girl.

Grabbing the hollow book beneath my bed, I hear Paylor's voice on the other end of the line. "Peeta?"

"It's me," I answer in a whisper, sitting up. Our conversations only ever take place in the late hours of the night. "Is everything alright?"

"I have something to ask you."

Taking a deep breath, I brace myself to receive another assignment. "Yes?"

"First of all, thank you for asking your brother of what he's heard in the factory. That information has helped us greatly," she begins. "But I have a personal task for you now."

I'm sure that she can hear my nervous gulp through the device. "Whatever you need."

"I need you to meet with me and a few other advisers in the morning, before sunrise." she says.

Paylor and I have only ever spoken over the phone. I have not seen her in person since Katniss and Haymitch were still in the District. It'd be too risky to be caught together. Hearing that she wants to meet with me causes sweat to begin to gather at my temple. "I won't be late for school, will I?"

She chuckles. "Of course not. Now about the location . . ."

* * *

 _One day before Harvest Festival_

Though sneaking out of my room was not a challenge after getting a few pointers from my brother, it was hard to shake off the fear that I would be caught. By two different evils. My mother would surely not hesitate to teach me a lesson if she found me missing from my bed. That I could take. But it's rare that people are out so early in the morning. There is a threat of an uprising every single day. If it isn't a riot, it's mass floggings for creating the disruption. Nearly every day there's death. The only business the bakery gets is from officials. Getting caught by officials would mean losing our business. It would cost my life.

Paylor instructed me to meet her in the cellar of a rundown clothing store. There are so many in the District that some are always being run out of business due to the competition. This one in particular hasn't been in business for a few months.

I knock Katniss' tune softly on the doors of the cellar when I arrive, crouching to help conceal my frame. Agonizingly long moment pass and I'm almost tempted to leave before I'm all but dragged inside.

"It's okay, Peeta," whispers Paylor when I try to flail. "Just a precaution."

The room is lit by a few candles and there is a small table set in the middle. Chairs surround it and I see many unfamiliar faces. Upon realizing that they're all focused on me, I tense.

Paylor lays a hand on my shoulder and nods toward our companions. "These are some of the most trusted people in the District. If you're ever in a situation with them, do not panic. They're here to discuss our plan with you."

I nod, taking the empty seat beside her. "Let's hear it."

A man speaks first. "Peeta. We understand that you have close relations with Katniss. That makes you a priority. We ask you to understand that we will always keep you safe to the best of our capabilities."

"I understand," I say, nervous at his choice of words. "I'm not afraid."

"We thank you," he says. Then he turns his attention to a man at his side who is watching me very intently. He nods.

"Peeta, what we want to ask of you, you may want to think about for a few days," he says. "We hope that you don't refute our proposal, but we do understand if there is hesitation."

All of their eyes are burning into me, and for that reason I don't let them see me falter. "I'm listening."

Paylor is the one who finally speaks up. She lays a hand on one of mine to get my attention, a hard look in her eyes. "There is going to be an uprising happening in the next few days. We don't ask that you try to head any of the protests, but we do want you to be amongst the crowds. _Fighting_. Some of our people are afraid that you are not as committed as you claim to be. So we want you to experience the severity of why we do this, why we need to fight back. First hand."

It's as if I've just taken a blow to the gut. My head is spinning. I wasn't ever supposed to be seen in the middle of any rebel activity. I was supposed to be strictly behind the scenes. I don't know what to say.

"Peeta, you will have people there with you," the first man says. "They aren't necessarily those who stay on the inside, such as you, but those who choose to risk their lives being the faces of it all. You won't be alone. You will have plenty of people there with you. We've already got a place and position in mind. All you will have to do is promise to be there."

I'm afraid to do anything. I clear my throat and ask the only question that comes to my mind, "What will happen to my family if I get caught?"

I can tell by all of their reactions that my question is not what they were expecting. Paylor looks away and clears her throat, trying to find her words. "I truly do not believe that you will have to worry about that. But I won't lie to you. If, by chance, you are caught . . . the chances of your family being thought of as conspirators is very high. I know you come from District Twelve. Though they are a relatively calm District, you are still considered an outsider. And what more reason to the Capitol that the family of a rebel moved here than for rebel causes?"

"Just tell me what you mean." I say, my voice hard.

Paylor purses her lips as she says the words I have been most afraid to hear, "They would be killed on sight."

. . . X

School went by incredibly slow that day. I startled every time someone touched me or whenever anyone entered my classroom. District Eight is under such severe surveillance, I was paranoid that someone had caught sight of our meeting. It was no better when I arrived home and began my shift at the bakery.

Every single customer that makes the little bell on our front door jingle makes me jump two feet in the air. I always knew that there was a risk. I'd be stupid to think that I'm completely safe while working with the rebels. The threat of being discovered has always been there. The difference is that now my fears have truly been confirmed. I've put my family's lives at danger, too. It's not just been about me and my feelings for Katniss.

I think of my father, who moved his whole life to a different District to please my mother. I think of Bran who still has a whole life ahead of him to live with his wife, Marjorie. And I think of Rye. He may be the biggest idiot of us all, but he never means anything but good. My mother is simply that, my mother, I couldn't be here without her. If I get discovered, all of their lives would be gone. Because of my own recklessness. They wouldn't get a chance to try and defend themselves, prove their ignorance to my actions. No one would believe them even if they did.

It's this time, when I'm lost in my thoughts, my mother cleaning the dining area and my father baking in the back, when it happens. We hear Rye pounding down the stairs. "There's a fire! There's a fire!"

When I meet his eyes, they are filled with such terror that I freeze.

"It's coming from the direction of the factory! _Bran's factory!_ " Our world seemed to reach a halt at his panicked words.

My mother finally speaks up, her voice faint. "The factory that produces the most of our clothes?"

The piercing screams that fill the air cause us all to run out of the shop. A choked noise escapes me when I see the billowing clouds of black smoke above the area that the factory would be located. I refuse to believe it until I watch my mother break down and fall to her knees, my father falling on his knees to hold her and try to hush her sobs. I feel like I'm dreaming. I have never seen my mother cry. I barely catch Rye when he loses consciousness.

I don't believe it until I feel the device in my pocket that could only be a message from Paylor vibrates. Until I see a few of our neighbors rush to the scene, and others running from it. It's then that my tears fall and my nightmare becomes a reality.

Unable to face the madness any longer, I place a hand on my father's shoulder and tell him to give me a hand. My mother runs inside ahead of us in a frenzy. We only hear her ramble on about needing to go to see Rye safe in his home with his wife.

After my father and I are able to get Rye in his bed, my parents take off to Bran and Marjorie's home. I've been left alone to tend to the bakery. I'm now glad that we don't get any customers. The only ones that do are busy inquiring about the fire.

At the feel of another vibration, I duck into our bathroom downstairs and answer. "Hello?"

"How is your brother?" she asks.

I look up at the ceiling, focusing on the dirty tiles so my tears don't spill. "I haven't heard anything yet."

Paylor doesn't say anything for a few beats too long. "I'm worried that they are getting closer to finding you out."

My jaw clenches. "You don't think that the fire was related to. . ."

"That's what my team thinks," she says quietly, pausing a moment before she says her next words. "I'm afraid that my team slipped up. That we talked to too many people there too soon."

"Should I be worried?" I ask, my voice foreign to my ears. But I don't want to hear her talk about what's going on in her mind. I can't.

Though she pauses to think, she sounds confident in her next words. "We all agreed that it's not likely that they have their mind on you or anyone close to you, but it's clear that they know the general area."

I don't think about it for another moment longer. "Tell me my position and location for the uprising."

* * *

 _Day of Harvest Festival_

It's early in the morning before the sun has even risen, as I'm mulling over the details of my role in the upcoming uprising, when he calls me. I pick up automatically thinking that it's Paylor when Haymitch's voice sounds in my ear. "I'm sorry about your brother, boy."

The reminder almost makes me want to hang up. "How did you—"

"Paylor," he says. "Thank you for accepting the role."

"Don't be crazy," I say, pulling my covers over my head. "They took my brother."

"We'll get them back."

When I can't think of anything else to say, I think of ending the call. It's exactly what I'm in the process of doing when he speaks again.

"Are you ready to be a part of something like this?" he asks. "Even the most devoted people to the cause have never done what you are about to do."

I take a deep breath and release it slowly. "Haymitch, there is no way that I am not doing this. I have never agreed with the Capitol, ever since I grew up watching people around me go hungry and sent off to their death. I _will_ never agree with the Capitol. I am going to fight to show them that."

"Well, I just hope you're prepared for what's coming." he says after a moment. "That girl has no idea what is going on out in the Districts. All because of her."

I chuckle, stunned. "She has no idea. The effect she can have."

I hear a slight shuffle, the clink of glass. Finally Haymitch returns. "I hope to hear from you again, boy."

His words make me tense at their underlying meaning. "I hope so, too. If. . . if you don't, please tell Katniss that I believe in her."

He sighs heavily. "I have one piece of advice for you."

"Yes?" I ask, my heart pounding.

"Stay alive."

After we hang up, I'm a nervous mess. Today, on the day of the televised Harvest Festival, is the day that the uprising will begin. Everyone agreed that it was the ideal cover. For everyone across Panem, it would be mandatory viewing. It gives us a reason to be out on the streets after dark. To gather in the Square or various other community centers around the city to watch. Any other night it would have been too suspicious. The set time was eight o'clock.

I have been stationed near the Communications Center. My main task is to aid in helping shut it down to try and prevent notification to the Capitol. We need it to last long enough for us to be able to get the word out and possibly cause a stir in other Districts. Some people believe that we are capable of shutting the whole District down.

The bakery is closed by the time the broadcast of the Harvest Festival in Eight is to begin. I have always watched the live events and recaps at home, so when I try to leave twenty minutes before, my curious father asks what I am doing.

"I'm going to go watch the broadcast in the Square," I say with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Why don't you just watch it here? With us?" he asks. "Don't you think it'd be nice to experience the new and improved Harvest Festival again as a family? It's been so long. You were ten at our last one."

Only my father would know how to guilt me. "I was going to watch it with some friends. They said that they were going to have questions about it and I said that I would be there to answer them."

He still seems unconvinced. "You really don't want to watch it with us?"

"I'll be back as soon as it's over." I say. "I'll see you."

There's a chance that he can convince me to stay if he says anything else, and I refuse to disappoint Paylor. I'm afraid that, though it's rare he leaves the bakery, he's heard about the uprising. Just about everyone in the District is aware. Most are willing and ready to take action.

At the last second, I give my father a tight hug and leave without another word.

When I step outside I can immediately feel the tense atmosphere. I make my way towards the Square. The Communications Center is not far from there and most people who are stationed there have been instructed to begin here. The broadcast will begin an hour before our attack, so the sky can grow dark and we have more time to catch them as off-guard as we possibly can. Sure enough, the peacekeepers are on alert from the start.

The broadcast begins with a brief overview of the District before honing in on their own town Square as Katniss arrives. When she steps out of the vehicle, my jaw threatens to drop. On the screen she looks absolutely radiant. Unattainable. A few light-hearted whistles ring amongst the crowd, making the peacekeepers feel more relaxed. This is when they begin to step back and give us space. Some retreat to the shadows. I catch the eye of an older man who is looking me up and down. I send him a brief nod and he repeats the action, shuffling closer to my side.

Katniss meets with the mayor and his family. Food is served soon after and then it switches between shots of people eating, chatting, and Katniss at a table with the Undersee's. I smile when I recognize Madge. She was always the pretty girl that every boy from Town wanted to marry. Not only was she eye-catching and seemingly free of the snobbiness that plagued the girls from Town, but she was the daughter of the mayor. They talk so quietly between themselves that the cameras quickly stops trying to pick up their conversation. I'm incredibly curious at what they are talking about. Katniss and Madge were not friends back then.

The camera pans back to Katniss and Madge when a guy approaches them. Everyone is intrigued when it is revealed that the guy is the very one who Katniss shot down in her pre-Games interview. I feel myself take a step toward the screen, wanting to get a closer look to see if anything will happen. Nothing does. The girls quickly eat their meal afterwards and its not long after that we see Katniss get up and walk into the crowd. She finds the guy, Gale, once more. My cheeks redden when they end up on the dance floor.

We all watch as the camera pans between shots of them dancing and the happy faces of the people in Twelve. Though I feel a pang of jealousy every single time the camera returns to see Katniss and Gale dancing, I'm amazed to see faces both familiar and new. Not a single person in the District isn't relaxed and smiling. Everyone is welcomed to more than one serving and just about everyone takes advantage of the offer. We are watching a shot of a mother feeding her little boy a strawberry for what appears to be the first time when suddenly Katniss and Gale take the screen once again. Right before he kisses her. My heart sinks to the bottom of my chest, but before I can react, the clock strikes eight. And all hell breaks loose.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _I was so excited when I finally wedged in some time to finally edit this document. It's been way too long! And it's pained me so much to have this chapter sitting in my Doc Manager knowing that I was holding it from you incredibly patient and amazing people. I almost just caved and posted it as it was but I'm glad that I didn't. You can be sure to see more very soon. I did not expect to be hit so hard by my work and school loads but boy was it overwhelming. The time I did have off was spent either fulfilling commitments, doing homework, or catching up on sleep. Finally, I was so happy to find the time that I needed to finish it up for you guys. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!_

With love, Daisy


	10. Retribution

**Katniss**

It's the first Sunday I've had the courage to go back out into the woods knowing that Gale could be here since I last saw him at the Harvest Festival.

Gale and I have yet to speak since that night.

I still don't know how I feel about what happened. I'm angry, but I almost feel guilty for being angry. I know I hurt Gale for what I did in the Capitol. I had tried to think of ways to get him to forgive me but he turned out to find the solution on his own. Even if I didn't agree. Haymitch told me a few days after that there had been a lot of buzz going around in the Capitol following my on-screen kiss with Gale. Not one person in the Capitol cared about my reaction, they were all head over heels at the possible notion that I was involved with him. There was a whole special dedicated to the kiss after the showing of the Harvest Festival. All they could talk about was how _romantic_ it must have been for me to fall in love with my friend who I once thought could never be anything more. How ironic it was that I said that there was no one for me in Twelve when I had just kissed Gale on live television for the entirety of Panem to see.

What bothered me the most was seeing all of the bets and the polls on the specifics of my "relationship." Haymitch showed me a segment where the commentators all talked about their theories on how Gale and I fell in love. And the polls. . . they were ridiculous. The commentators would each describe a scenario of a given topic and then they would ask the people to vote on which was their favorite. _How do you think they fell in love? How long do you think they have been in love? When do you think they will get married? How many kids do you think they are going to have? Do you think their kids are going to be reaped?_

I was shaking so hard by the end of it that Haymitch restricted my mother and Prim from allowing me to watch television until he decided that the talk had settled down enough. The woods were my only sanction.

My intention was to come out here now and possibly shoot a few birds or squirrels, small things that are harder to shoot so I could give myself a little challenge to help relieve some of my nerves. That plan is proved to be forgotten when my feet carry me to the cement house. I was so lost in my intent that I hadn't even picked my bow up on my way here. I go inside the house and sit down. Suddenly feeling heavy on my shoulder, I set my game bag down beside me. At the feel of the small rectangle, I pull out the plant book.

Ever since I returned from the Tour, I carry it with me wherever I go. If I ever get overwhelmed all I have to do is open it up and look through it. Whether it's reciting my entries or looking at Peeta's drawings, it's all I need to bring myself back from the panic that threatens to consume me. I remember Peeta. I remember how it was to be with him. I remember how kind, patient, and grounded he is. Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night screaming from my nightmares, I even remember how easy it was for him to calm me down and wish that he could be there with me to do just that. I think of how no one else's arms had ever made me feel that safe.

I rub my face hard with my hands. I will never understand what it is about Peeta Mellark. Why I just can't get him out of my head. And then I think of our kiss. It felt like I was someone else, someone who wasn't on their way home from celebrating that they lived at the cost of twenty-three other lives. It felt like I had no worries in the world. Like I could really be a girl who could kiss a boy and not have to go back to worrying about fanning the flames of a rebellion. I had never surprised myself more than when I kissed him back.

Peeta has always been one of the biggest mysteries of my life. Before the incident with the bread, he had completely flown by my radar. Yes, he'd been there, but he had never really made himself a presence in my life. I'd caught him looking at me a few times, but it was always because I thought he was looking at how thin and starved I was. The night he threw me that bread, I hadn't been able to process what had happened until I saw the bruise on his face the next day after school. Right before I found the dandelion. I never went hungry after that again. Some days I even wondered if he were real or just a figment of my imagination. A sign from my father to simply wake up and be a hunter.

It scares me how many times a day my mind drifts to Peeta Mellark. I only spent a few days with him and he has stuck with me in a way that no one else ever has. I shouldn't be so concerned over this boy but I just can't get my mind to stop. I don't want him to be gone just like that. If he is going to be gone, I want it to be on my own terms. Only I don't want him gone. I've lost so many nights of sleep trying to figure out why that is, but I can never find the answer. For the first time, I just _want_ something without a reason to. I knew that Peeta was kind. I _knew_ that kind people have a way of working their way inside me and rooting there. Yet I still let him in and now I'm afraid that he'll never get out.

At the lost sensation of my hands, I realize that they've gone numb and decide that it's time for me to go home. It's been too long and there has been no sight of Gale. I guess today is not the day that I am going to try to talk to him again. What a shame. After I gather my things, I hastily make my way out of the house so I can get home. I'm so caught up in my thoughts of Peeta that when I see Gale coming towards me, I startle and jump. With a snare in his hands and a turkey around his waist, he freezes in his tracks.

"Katniss," he says, sounding surprised.

All the time I've had to think about what to say him and I'm at a loss for words now. "Gale."

He walks closer to me until he's about an arm's length away and I take a step back. I can tell this hurts him but I pretend not to notice. "I didn't think I would ever see you out here again."

I decide I don't want to hold off any longer. I have to tell him. "Gale, you're in trouble."

"What? What do you mean?" he asks, a solemn look on his face. It makes my heart ache.

"What you did, Gale. It put you on Snow's radar." I say, the hurt threatening to spill onto my face. "Why did you have to do that?

I immediately regret my choice of words. Now he feels as if I'm blaming him. "Why did you have to make me look like a fool in front of the entire country?"

"Gale, it's not about you anymore! You being on his radar doesn't just affect you, it affects your family! Snow hurts the people you love." I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from spilling my tears. "That's why he's really going to be on you now. A boyfriend? There's so much going on in the other Districts with the threat of rebellion, I'm surprised that he hasn't wanted to make a show of it!"

Too late I realize my mistake. He's grown quiet. Now when he gets closer I don't step back. "Katniss. . . there's talk in the mines. Talk of fighting back. That's not _just_ in the other Districts. But that _is_ news. If others are fighting, then we can fight, too. Katniss, just think what would happen if—"

"No," I say, disgusted that he would even think to speak of such insanity. "We can't fight back. Gale, didn't you just hear me? We don't have the numbers in Twelve. We'd just be getting ourselves killed. Don't you dare even think of it!"

"What are you talking about, Catnip? You hate the Capitol. You've always wanted change. Now you've made it possible. Why won't you act on it?" he asks, his voice harsh.

I'm shocked. "Of course I hate the Capitol. Haven't you seen what they've done to me? Gale, I-I don't want to lose you."

Now he's caught off guard. I don't anticipate what he asks next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I love you," I say. "You're like my family. It may not be how you want me to, but—" I just stop. I can tell that he's not listening. "Gale?"

But Gale shakes his head, turning away from me. "Just go, please. I need to be alone."

So I do.

After failing to do anything with my bow, I finally leave the woods. I decide to stop by some shops in Town before I go home. In turn for being gone all morning, I grab some sweets for Prim and get some more bandage for my mother. She's always needing more and it's good for her to have a stocked supply. When I get to Town, I notice that it's quieter than usual. But then my thoughts fall to Gale and I focus on my tasks to get home to Prim quicker. It's when I'm buying extra bandage that I begin to hear the commotion. I quickly pay for my purchase and go outside to see what is wrong. I realize that the noises are coming from the square and get there as fast as my feet can carry me.

At first I can't see anything over the crowds, but as I begin to approach people start to make a path for me. Others try to stop me, but that only makes me more eager in my determination to see what is going on. When I finally break through the crowds, my heart nearly stops. Gale is tied to a whipping post with his back littered with a handful of lacerations and there's a Peacekeeper standing before him. I freeze. But it isn't until I see the man raise his arm that I begin to make sense of the scene and run out towards them. "Stop!"

I barely make it in time to block the hit. I raise my hands up to my head too late because I still feel the whip make contact along the side of my head all the way to my ear before I hit the ground hard.

"What do you think you're doing?" a voice seethes. I look up, my vision beginning to go blurry, and see my assailant. I have never seen this man before.

"Stop." is all I manage to repeat, my voice hoarse. This makes him smile.

"You just made a big mistake, girl." He says.

All I do is raise my hands to protect my head once again. I hear the sharp whistle that tells me he is raising the whip, but that's when another voice rings about the square. "Hold it!"

Peeking out between my arms, I let my arms fall at my sides at the sight of Haymitch as the adrenaline finally runs out of me. I allow myself to relax and don't hear the many words that follow as I feel myself begin to grow lighter and lighter before I'm gone.

* * *

I register the feeling of something cold on my forehead and my eyes fly open immediately. I'm met with the blurry face of what seems to be my mother, and when she finally comes into focus I see that she looks relieved. "Katniss, honey. How do you feel?"

"Mom?" I ask. That's when the pain registers and I squeeze my eyes shut, gripping one of my mother's hands tightly.

"Oh, honey," she sighs. "Why did you have to jump in?"

"Mom, don't," I hear my little sister say.

I open my eyes again to see her at my other side opposite my mother. I give her a smile.

"It's going to be okay, Katniss. We're going to fix you right up." She soothes, caressing one of my cheeks.

This makes me frown. "When did _you_ start taking care of _me_ , little duck?"

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "You know that you don't need to protect me anymore. I'm with you."

I pause, realizing that her words have a meaning deeper and my throat threatens to tighten up. "I love you."

"I love you too, Katniss," she says softly.

"Ahem," says the gruff voice of my mentor.

We all look over and see him standing at the entrance of my room, waiting. My mother and sister nod.

"Don't be too tough with her," my mother says, her tone serious.

"She's going to need some time to heal." Prim concludes. And with that, they exit my room together.

Haymitch comes over and pulls a stool over to the left side of my bed. He picks up one of my hands and looks me up and down, his scowl finally settling on his face. "You stupid girl."

"Haymitch—" I try, but he stops me.

"Just listen," he says, putting his other hand up in the air. "You could have gotten yourself killed. That whole scene was broadcast live to all of Panem. They weren't able to cut off the feed until after he whipped you. You want to fan these flames, but all you ever do is add fuel. I wonder how many other damn uprisings are in the talks now."

I pause. "Other?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Haymitch winces before scratching the scruff on his chin and letting his words out so quietly that I barely pick them up. "There was one in Eight."

I can barely breathe. As soon as he's facing me once again, my words spill out a little too loud as I plead with my eyes for him to know the answer to my question. "Peeta?"

He sighs sharply and I feel myself begin to shake. "I haven't gotten any word from him since."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my breathing increasingly labored. "He's at the bakery. He should be there."

"Katniss, he was a part of it." he forces out, sending my whole world to a halt.

I shake my head. "No. Not Peeta. Peeta wouldn't fight the Capitol, he's too—"

"I know, but he did." Haymitch says before proceeding to go quiet for a long time. He almost seems to be contemplating something. I'm about to ask but he opens his mouth and I wait. "Katniss, he did it for you."

And suddenly the idea of actually losing Peeta hits me and I realize how much I don't want him to die. And it's not about what he did for me in the past. And it's not for the kindness he's never once failed to show me. It's _him_. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread. "Why would he. . ." I don't have the strength to finish my sentence. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to reach for him across the hundreds and hundreds of miles, to send my thoughts into his mind, to let him know he is not alone. But he is. And I can't help him.

"The motivation that boy's got. . . it can carry him far." says Haymitch, subtly averting my question.

"What's his motivation?" I ask, my brows furrowing in curiosity.

I can immediately tell that Haymitch does not want to answer my question. But I plead with my eyes once again and he eventually sighs. "Katniss, it's you."

Me? What about me? And then I understand, a gasp escaping me. "He's a rebel?" I know that the hurt is strewn all across my features but I don't care. Is that why he had been wanting to get so close to me?

"Don't make yourself look stupid. Did you not notice anything about that boy?" he asks, tired. I'm confused by his reaction.

Of course I did. But this is the only thing that would make sense. "I spent hours with him."

"Then how is it that you never realized that he loves you?"

Suddenly everything stops. I look back to Haymitch, searching for even a hint of humor against the hard look in his eyes. The tears finally fall when I come up empty and find nothing. "That's not. . . no. Haymitch, no."

"I'm sure he's okay, that boy is strong-willed. I'll let you know if I hear anything." Haymitch takes one last look at my wound, his eyes wrinkling at the sight, and leaves.

Peeta can't love me. He can't. My head starts to hurt so much that I sob. I sob and I sob and I sob. I sob so much that eventually Prim comes in with a cup of tea in her hands. With soft words, she coaxes me into taking a few sips. I make a face when I taste how sweet it is. I stop for a second to look up at her in disappointment. We had been over this plenty of times. "Prim, you know that I only like three spoonfuls."

There's a guilty look on her face. I can't put my finger on why as I begin to grow tired. "I'm sorry, Katniss. Mom thought it would help."

My eyelids, heavy with sleep, fall closed just as my mother comes in. The last thing I hear are her whispered words saying that the syrup worked before I fall asleep.

* * *

 **Peeta**

When our televisions come to life, everyone in the District has nothing to do but to pay attention to their screens. Ever since the uprising, the District has been on lock down. Every screen across the District displayed nothing but static.

The night of the uprising was horrific. Everything had gone so well in the beginning, better than anyone had expected. After my group had taken down the Communications Center I left to aid another group. On my way there was when the thousands of Peacekeepers began to arrive. I tried to help fight back at first, but once we saw that there were too many, we had to retreat. I barely made it back to my house safely in the onslaught.

My parents were shaken when I arrived. Of course they knew what was happening. They weren't fools. It was obvious that I had been a part of the madness. No one said a thing about it, and they still have yet to acknowledge it. The worst thing was facing Rye.

He came into my room that night and laid in my bed beside me, though we clearly didn't fit. Neither of us said a word for hours. He was the one to break the silence. "Peeta, I know you're angry, but violence won't bring him back."

"I know that it won't," I said back. "But I can't continue to sit here and do nothing. We can't live like this."

"It's not up to us to make the change. You're going to get yourself killed if you keep doing stuff like that. _Mom_ didn't even punish you. Do you have any idea what that meant? You stunned that woman silent. Nothing silences her."

I shook my head, refusing to let my brother get to me. "I know what I have to do. For us. I'll be careful. I promise. All has been fine so far."

"What happens when you get too comfortable?" he asks, his voice rising slightly. "I'm so afraid that I'm going to walk into the Square one day and you'll be dead."

"I promise you, that won't happen. I wouldn't allow it."

My brother and I hadn't been in the same room since. But right now we all gather around to see what the Capitol wants to show us. We identified District Twelve as soon as we saw the Square. We see a man in the uniform designated to Head Peacekeepers standing above a young man tied to a whipping post with what appears to be a wild turkey hanging above his head.

The Head Peacekeeper announces the man's crime and the young man pleads guilty. The Peacekeeper then announces that in penance for his crimes, the man would need to be whipped fifty times and that it would be enforced immediately. My entire family watched with bated breath as he warned the crowd that this is what would happen if anyone else was caught killing animals from the Capitol's land. He raised his arm with the whip and the whistle echoed powerfully through the Square. We all cringed as the whip made contact with his skin. I couldn't look as he was whipped a second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth time. I'm about to step out of the room when we hear it. "Stop!"

The man doesn't turn to search for the owner of the voice and neither does the camera. Everyone is stunned when we see young woman jump in front of the whip and take the hit, falling to the ground with a thud in front of the Peacekeeper. "What do you think you're doing?" The Head Peacekeeper asks harshly.

That is when the girl turns and we all get a look at her face. I gasp. It's Katniss. She appears disoriented as she looks up at him. She asks him to stop and he tells her that she has made a mistake, raising his arm once again, only this time he really _is_ aiming for her. I force myself to not look away as Katniss raises her arms to protect her head once again in a meek act of defense. That's when our television goes black and we're all left staring at our shocked reflections in the glass.

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! So much has happened! So many emotions! Peeta loves Katniss! Katniss loves Peeta! Wait, no, we're getting ahead of ourselves now. Our poor Katniss is struggling with her feelings as she so famously does (much to our disappointment throughout the series, am I right?) and Peeta is under lock down! But at least our little rebel is safe. He just can't catch a break with these broadcasts, can he? The last time he saw her she was locking lips with someone else, and now she's getting whipped in front of the nation. I hope you guys appreciate this update, I wanted to post it on Thursday but I didn't let myself because I thought it was a little too soon. Anyway! I'm currently getting ready to go to work so I hope to see some nice feedback when I get back home! Our next update should be on Wednesday so stay tuned._

With love, Daisy


	11. Thirteen

**Katniss**

After the whipping, Gale and I went back to my house where Gale stayed for a few days before my mother released him. After three days passed, she had sent him on his way with the majority of things Cinna had sent me from the Capitol. We were kept away from one another the entire time he was in her care. Too worried that it would be too much too soon for the both of us. When my head wasn't throbbing and encompassing me in headaches so severe I couldn't form a single thought, I'd wonder about how Gale was doing. I didn't remember how his back appeared while he was tied to the post. He had been conscious, my mother had informed me that much. But whenever I got a moment to ask on his condition, she would tell me that he was fine and that I shouldn't worry. And then I would be reminded of Peeta and whether he saw what happened, if he was thinking about me too. . . if what Haymitch said was true.

It's now been almost two weeks since the incident with our new Head Peacekeeper. I've been itching to go back into the woods. My mother and Prim have not let me out of their sight. Prim is with me when she's not at school. My mother replaces her whenever she is. She's been so stubborn as to almost refusing to take patients in case that Gale or I would need her care.

It took days of convincing for my mother to let me outside of the house today. Of course, she doesn't know that I'm going out to the woods, but I needed to get out of there. People are starving all over the district while we are still drowning in the earnings of my Games. Before I was put on house arrest, I would fill my game bag with loads of food and spread things around here and there. My priorities included the Hawthorne's, Greasy Sae, and now Hob traders who were recently shut down. My argument was that I needed to feed the hungry that had relied on me for at least one meal a week. She has her own people, mostly patients, who she looks out for. She felt my disparity and ultimately caved on my pleas. I felt bad for lying my way into the woods. But I still plan on dropping off the food on my way back home, so it's not a _complete_ lie. At least, that's what I've been telling myself.

After I pick up my bow and arrows from my hollow log, I halfheartedly search for things to hunt. I don't plan on bringing any game back after what happened with Gale, so I find it hard to shoot an animal without the intention of it going to someone's belly. It'd be a waste of good food. I've known hunger far too well to throw game away.

Following some time of simply shooting arrows into the sky and retrieving them, I'm not surprised when my feet lead me to the cement house. I go inside and set my heavy bag down near the door. My hands and face are numb from the exposure to the cold so I make a fire from the wood Gale and I have gathered and stocked beside the chimney for occasions like this and start a small fire. At the thought of Gale, my head begins to fill with thoughts of my best friend.

A week after our encounter with new Head Peacekeeper Romulus Thread, Gale stopped by to pay me a visit. I had just begun talking again after the shock of Haymitch's confession. Despite the amount of worrying I'd done, I found that seeing another boy whose heart I had captured was not what I wanted to do. He was shy, but he came into my room with a purpose. His limp was obvious and he grunted with every few steps. Prim had followed in behind him to supervise our interaction. Not because she or my mother feared that we would do foolish things, but to make sure that I did not become distressed.

Gale took a seat at the stool while Prim checked on the wound and reapplied my salves and replaced my bandages. He sat there watching her for a while as Prim waited for him to begin the conversation. Finally, when Prim was left with nothing to busy her hands with, Gale politely asked if he could speak to me on his own. As I expected, Prim did not leave at his request. Instead, she turned her attention to me. I was too busy eyeing Gale. Trying to decide between asking how he was feeling and ripping his shirt off to see the damage myself. With a final sigh, I assured Prim that I would be okay on my own. She was hesitant, her eyes wary, but she left with her head down and her ponytail bobbing.

I had already decided to be stoic when Gale was to come by, so when I turned to face him once again my eyes were hard and my jaw was set. Determined to be strong. I did not expect to see the pain in his eyes. It stopped me cold.

"Thank you. For taking that hit for me," he said to me. "You saved me."

My shoulders rose and fell on their own. "No I didn't. I was too late."

He nodded at my words, his eyes falling on my bandaged head. "I could've ended up dead had you not stepped in and taken that for me. Why did you do that, Catnip? Why would you try to protect me, especially after we had just had an argument?"

"Wouldn't you have done the same for me?" I countered, my eyes threatening to fill with tears.

Gale faltered, upset that I was ignoring his obvious point. But for once in his life, he let something go. "What are, uh, they going to do about that scar?"

I can tell he knows I'm amused at his attempt to talk Capitol things with me. My protective walls fell almost instantly. "Cinna called here and told my mother and Prim how best to care for it so it doesn't scar as bad as it should. Those salves your mom has been applying to your . . . injury, he sent them to apply to my wounds at scheduled times. Believe it or not, my wound is on a more rigorous schedule than I ever was under Effie Trinket. You bet my lovely caretakers haven't missed a single application."

A hesitant smile slowly blossomed on his face and my heart had warmed. It was the first normal conversation we'd had since I left for the Games. I only wish it didn't have to happen under the circumstances it did. "Good to know you're being well taken care of."

For some reason the mention of care coming from his lips makes me think of another boy districts away from our own and his own nurturing nature. So different than the boy sitting before me. My head suddenly begins to hurt and I declare that Peeta and Gale do not coexist well together in my thoughts.

"Do they know when you'll heal?" he asked after a few minutes of my silence.

It was too late though. I was no longer in the mood to converse with my best friend. Now all I could think of was Peeta. Haymitch never got back to me on whether he had heard any news on the boy with the bread. I've been desperate to hear _something_. But I haven't seen Haymitch since he dropped the bomb on me.

My warmed fingers roam over my face, no longer cold and numb. When they find the tip of my nose I find that it's still cold and scoot closer to the fire. I get up quickly and grab the folded quilt above the fireplace, draping it over my still-cold frame. I think of Gale and when he'd first brought it after Hazelle knit it for us a few winters ago. I shiver when I think of our last encounter here. Before the whipping. Thread has not been shy on his use of the post. Haymitch could only do so much. Saving Gale and I was all he would be able to do.

Some nights I stayed up wondering if it wouldn't have happened had Gale and I not gotten into the argument. But I push those thoughts away swiftly. The only thing that would have prevented the events that took place that day was if Thread had arrived any other day to take Cray's place, or not at all.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I barely register the click of the gun. Instinctively, my arm reaches over for my bow and I have it poised and ready to shoot my assailant before they can blink an eye.

That is when I become aware of my target. They are in the unmistakable white of a Peacekeeper uniform. There's no hope for me anymore.

My fingers are just about to let my arrow fly when the gun falls and their other arm quickly rises up, showing me something in their gloved hand. "Stop!"

Her voice reminds me so much of my own when I was trying to save Gale that I waver, confused at this turn of events. That's when I see it. In her hand is a small white circle of flat bread. And in the center it holds an image. It's my mockingjay.

"What does that mean?" I demand, my voice harsh.

A smaller young woman appears from behind a tree. "It means we're on your side."

I'm so stunned that I let my bow fall to my side. These women look beaten down, weak. The young one's uniform is ill-fitting and now that I inspect her closely could not be of age to be a Peacekeeper. She hangs on to a broken tree branch I see is helping her stand. My eyes travel back to the first woman who I can now tell is significantly older than her companion. She appears nervous but unafraid. "Who are you?"

"My name is Twill," says the older woman. She appears to be around my mother's age. "This here is Bonnie. We've run away from District Eight."

I stand, this information capturing my attention immediately. District Eight? They must have information about the uprising.

"Where did you get your uniforms?" I ask.

"I stole them from the factory," says the younger one. "We make them there. Only I thought this one would be for . . . someone else. That's why it fits so poorly."

My eyes travel to the gun and Twill is quick to give me an answer for that too. "The gun came from a dead Peacekeeper."

"And the cracker in your hand. It's the bird from my pin. What's that about?" I ask, hoping for a clear explanation as to why these women are running around the woods of District Twelve supposedly on a trek from Eight with my mockingjay on a cracker.

"You don't know, Katniss?" asks Bonnie.

Feeling discouraged, I blurt out the one piece of information I'm sure they'll be surprised I know. "You had an uprising in Eight." I declare matter-of-factly.

Twill nods, gesturing to Bonnie. "Yes, that's why we had to get out."

"And now that you're out, what are you planning to do?" I ask.

"We're headed for District Thirteen," says Twill, as if it was obvious and I should have already known.

But I just think they're insane. "There's no Thirteen. Everyone knows it got blown off the map."

The two women look at each other briefly before Bonnie answers me. "Seventy-five years ago."

Suddenly feeling below them on the topic they seem so sure of, I decide to change the subject of our discussion. "Is anyone after you?"

"We don't think so," Twill says. "We think they believe that we were killed in a factory explosion. At least, that's what should have been our fate."

"Come in and shut the door behind you, it's cold in here now." I say, picking up the abandoned quilt and laying it down before the fire. "Are you hungry?"

Bonnie bows her head. "We took what we could, but food's been so scarce. That's been gone for a while . . ."

That was it. My remaining defenses melt at the sound of her wavering voice. "Well, then this is your lucky day," I say, reaching for my game bag and emptying the contents of it onto the quilt. I tell them to go ahead and eat whatever they like. The overwhelmed look in their eyes at the small pile of food makes me ache both at the sight, and because the Capitol has let this go on all over Panem.

Once everyone is settled and filling their stomachs, I clear my throat. "So what's your story?"

"You might as well grab a snack, too," Bonnie says, smiling slightly as she looks to Twill. Twill smiles back and nods. I play along and grab an apple that I don't intend to take a single bite out of. When Twill begins speaking, I realize that they were not playing around.

"Ever since your Games, there's been a mutual unrest among everyone in Eight. I mean, it has always been that way, but after your interview, it was buzzing around the atmosphere like a plague. Everyone's wishes of revolting were no longer just that. They became a reality," she says. "Our factories back home are loud. Words could be passed around without the fear of being heard by unwanted ears."

I'm completely drawn in. "Is that how you two know each other?"

Bonnie laughs lightly. "No. We worked at the same factory, but I was one of Twill's pupils back home. She's a schoolteacher. We both spent four-hour shifts together after school. That's why we were able to flee together."

"You escaped the explosion at your factory?" I ask, unconvinced. There is no way they would have had time to outrun an explosion.

Her face grows somber. "No."

When she doesn't offer an explanation I turn to Twill, who is looking at Bonnie. She gives me the answer I'm looking for. "The day of your Harvest Festival was the day our uprising began. Some time after your broadcast began, after people were in position and the Peacekeepers had lowered their guard, our people began to attack. At first, the Peacekeepers didn't stand a chance. They were taken by surprise and were terribly outnumbered. We were able to take out the Communication Center, the granary, and the power station. And as Peacekeepers fell, we obtained more weapons. All was going well until Peacekeepers began to arrive by the thousands. It wasn't until they began to bomb us that everyone finally backed down and tried to make it home."

"Less than two days later, and we were back in the Capitol's hold," Bonnie says quietly. "We were on lock down for a week after. No one was allowed out to get food or coal. We were absolutely forbidden from leaving our homes. Our televisions showed static unless they were televising the deaths of suspected instigators. It wasn't until just before half the District died of starvation that they allowed us to return to our daily activities." She pauses and looks up to where the wound is on my head. "They even showed us the whipping from Twelve. It was our last day on lock down."

Not wanting to talk about myself yet, I put the focus back on them. "How is it then that you guys found the time to escape?"

Twill reaches over to Bonnie and places a hand over hers. "That first day back, Twill and I were on our way to the factory when we met a giant hole in the ground in a road that we usually walked to get to the factory. We had to find a new route, making us late. We were still miles away when the factory exploded. It killed everyone inside. My husband, Bonnie's family. It wasn't the first incident to happen to one of our factories. We believe that someone let it slip to the Capitol that the idea for the uprising started there. . . Bonnie and I ran back to my house and got the suits. We took food from our neighbors that we knew to be dead and took off to the railroad station."

"We changed in a warehouse near the tracks. From there we were able to make it onto a boxcar full of fabric on a train headed to District Six. We escaped at a fuel stop along the way and traveled on foot from there. Using the woods as a cover and the tracks to guide us, we made it to Twelve just yesterday. The only reason we thought to stop here was because of my ankle. My boots are too big and I twisted it."

I feel bad that these women have made such a journey. They're only going to be disappointed when they make it to Thirteen and find nothing but rubble. A rigorous trek gone to waste. "What do you expect to find in Thirteen?"

Bonnie bites her lip and meets Twill's nervous glance. "We're actually not sure."

"We've all seen the footage," I say, still unconvinced.

Twill raises an eyebrow. "That's it. Haven't you noticed that they have been using the same footage for every live broadcast of Thirteen? Just about everyone in Eight has remembered seeing it every single time."

"Really?" I try to recall the images I've seen of Thirteen on television but I can't think of anything specific.

"You know how they always show the Justice Building?" Twill asks me. I nod and she continues. "If you look very carefully, you'll see in the far right-hand corner a mockingjay flying by. Every single time. Back in Eight, we have a theory that they keep reusing old footage because they can't show us what's there now."

I shake my head. "That seems ridiculous. The Capitol wouldn't just let people roam about on their own. I'm sure we needed graphite miners for a reason."

They look surprised with my response. "We think that the people moved underground after everything on the surface was destroyed. We think they managed to survive. Before the Dark Days, their principal industry was nuclear development. For them, survival could be possible. It would also give the Capitol a reason to leave them alone."

"But in school. . ." I stop myself, no longer confident. The Capitol had told us they were graphite miners. I can feel my whole body start to panic. Could there be merit to the words of these women and District Eight? Could there be people in Thirteen? With an arsenal so powerful that it could— "Why haven't they helped us?" Suddenly I'm angry at these imaginary people.

"We don't know," Bonnie whispers. "Right now, we're holding on to the hope that they exist."

The room filled with tension, we all become silent. No one speaks as Bonnie and Twill continue eating bits of the food. It isn't until I remember a small detail Bonnie had mentioned that makes me grow desperate and I snap up so suddenly that Twill searches for her gun. My face grows hot. "Bonnie, how old are you?"

She smiles, though confused at my sudden question. "I'll be seventeen here soon. I'm in the same grade as you in school."

I then turn my attention to Twill. "So you teach children in my year?"

Twill nods. "I did, yes."

"Do either of you happen to know a boy named Peeta Mellark?" I ask hesitantly, seeing their interest in my personal questions. They both look surprised and nod their heads after sharing a quick glance in recognition.

Bonnie speaks first. "Oh yes, he's very sweet. All of the girls in school think he'd make a great husband." She blushes at her comment and ducks her head a bit. Twill smiles.

"Peeta is definitely a fine young man. All of those Mellark boys are charmers, but Peeta . . . he's special," she says before seemingly making the realization in her head. "He was born here, wasn't he?"

"Yes," I say, playing with the end of my braid. "Did you guys see him the day you returned to school?"

Twill nods, interested. "He's never missed a day. Right on time as always. May I ask why you're concerned?"

"He's just an old friend." I stutter, my tongue catching on the word friend.

Bonnie bites her lip but I still catch the hint of her smile. "He was okay the last we saw of him. I'm sure he's fine. He couldn't get into trouble if he tried."

Her old teacher laughs. "You are very right on that, Bonnie."

Satisfied, I let a smile fall on my lips. I can finally relax knowing that he's okay and wasn't killed in the uprising. "I guess I'll be on my way now. It's getting late and we're under strict curfew."

They both stand with me and watch as I pick up my empty game bag and bow and arrows. I'm taken off guard when they both embrace me tightly and give me endless thank you's. "I can't believe we actually got to meet you."

I strain a smile on my face and, after asking them to stay safe, bid them goodbye.

My walk back through the woods is over before I know it. I'm filled with the newfound information Bonnie and Twill have given me. I'm not even thrown off by the light snow that begins to fall. When I reach the hollow log nearest my old home in the Seam, I quickly stash my weapons before walking over to my usual hole in the fence.

I'm so caught up in my thoughts that it isn't until I hear the trill of a mockingjay that I pause and come back to reality, suddenly becoming aware of the things around me. It's just as I'm reaching to put my hand on the fence when I hear the quiet hum. The fence, though it appears as innocuous as ever, is alive with electricity.

I don't crawl away fast enough.

Panic taking over, I immediately scan the treeline for a tree I can climb. It's much too ironic that the fence is alive the exact day I come back into the woods. I fear that I've been watched. When I find the perfect tree to get over the fence with I don't hesitate to climb. It's only when I'm at the edge of the limb over into the side of Twelve that I finally pause.

It's a dangerously long drop. Even for someone as me whose had years of practice. Finally, I take a deep breath and lower myself until I'm only hanging onto the limb with my hands. I take a deep breath and let go. A gasp escapes when I hit the ground after my fall, feeling a sharp pain go straight up my spine. I don't have to stand to know I'm injured. My hand immediately goes to the wound on my head and I wince at its tenderness, but decide I haven't injured it any further.

Not one to waste time, I get up and, after testing my foot, begin my walk to Town. I've taken far too long out here. I'm going to need an alibi to tell my mother and Prim.

When I arrive, I buy some white cloth and herbs for my mother. At the sight of the fabric shop I remember Bonnie and Twill and decide to go in and get Prim a nice bow for her hair.

By the time I get home, I'm exhausted, hungry, and the pain in my heel is so intense that I can barely stand on it anymore. I fully intend to collapse in the entrance of my home but am in for a shock when my feet touch the mat in my home.

Two Peacekeepers are standing in the doorway of our kitchen. I can tell by the flicker of surprise on one of their faces that I am unanticipated. They did know that I was in the woods. "Hello," I greet them. "Can I help you with something?"

"Head Peacekeeper Thread sent us with a message for you," the woman says.

"They've been waiting for hours," my mother adds.

They've been waiting for me to fail to return. To confirm that I was out in the woods and became trapped by the live fence. "Must be an important message." I say.

The woman's face grows impossibly harder. "From Head Peacekeeper Thread, he wanted you to know that the fence surrounding District Twelve will now have electricity twenty-four hours a day. He thought you might be interested in passing this information on to your _friend_."

"I'll let him know as soon as I can," I say. "Thank you for coming all this way and keeping my family company while I was gone."

I can tell that they want to say more, but they have no orders left to fulfill, so they leave quietly. After the door shuts behind them, I fall to the floor and wince. A few tears spring to my eyes due to the pain.

Prim rushes to me first. "What is it, Katniss? Is it your head?"

I shake my head but decide not to answer just yet. Instead, I declare that I need to go see Haymitch.

My mother objects but I give her a look that says I don't want to be messed with. "I promise I'll be back soon. I just have to discuss something with him quickly."

With those as my parting words, I leave my bag and begin to limp on over to the house of my old mentor. The entrance is covered with empty glass bottles and I can only hope that he's not drunk out of his mind. I find him sitting on his couch and he looks at me in surprise. "Had I scheduled a visit?"

"Peeta's alive." I blurt.

Haymitch looks amused. "I know."

"You _know_?"

Haymitch shrugs and takes a sip from the glass I hadn't noticed was in his hand. "I made a call about a week ago. Your boy's fine."

I'm too angry to acknowledge his comment. "I've been worrying the past two weeks thinking he was dead! You've known all this time and not told me, even though I _asked_ you to?"

"Cool it, fire girl," he says, waving a hand at me in dismissal. But then he pauses. "How did you know know that he's alive?"

For a second I almost think of lying, but Haymitch could call me out on my lies any day. So I cave and tell him of the day's events. He doesn't say a word when I'm done.

When he finally does, his words surprise me. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"What?" I ask, the word tumbling out so fast that Haymitch smirks.

He gets up and helps me over to the kitchen where he pulls a small device from a cupboard and presses some buttons. Eventually, he raises the device to his ear. I stand eagerly at his side, waiting to see what will follow. My heart nearly stops when Haymitch speaks, "Boy?"

I bite the inside of my cheek hard, not willing to believe it just yet.

"She's fine, healing nicely." Haymitch looks up at me. "Just took her first trip to the outside world."

Haymitch smiles as he converses quietly. My name a hot topic. I start to think that he's forgotten I'm there when he suddenly thrusts the device into my hands. It's a small pod that easily fits in my hand. I don't give myself too much time to inspect it before tentatively bringing it up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Katniss?" I hear him ask almost immediately and I actually sigh in relief. "Are you okay?"

I nod even though he can't see me. "Yeah. How-how are you?"

He chuckles softly and I grip the pod tighter in my hands, wishing that I could hear him laugh in person. "I should be asking you that same question."

I shake my head. "The uprising. . ."

Peeta doesn't say anything at first. Nothing but silence travels between us. "How do you know about that, Katniss?"

His question catches me off guard. His voice is soft, sad. I'm scared to speak any further. "Haymitch."

"And you listened to a drunk?" he asks in an attempt to brush it off, but his voice lacks the playfulness it would have with such a joke of his.

"Peeta?" I ask quietly, afraid by this new side of him I hadn't experienced with him in Eight.

At the sound of a sharp intake of breath, I really begin to worry. But I don't even get another word in before he's talking again.

"Katniss, I told you to be safe. Please promise me that you'll stay safe."

"What? Peeta, you were in an uprising—"

"Katniss, you were whipped on a live broadcast." Peeta interjects, his voice desperate. "I couldn't get a hold of Haymitch for hours, I thought that they got you."

His words make tears spring to my eyes. "I'm sorry."

Peeta sighs. "Don't apologize. Just stay safe please, for your family."

I try to stand up straight at his words but forget about my injury and yelp. Haymitch grabs one of my arms and nods to my head. I shake my head slightly and see worry flash in his eyes.

"Katniss?" Peeta asks, concern evident in his voice.

"It's just my leg, I . . . missed a step on the stairs this morning." My lie is so clear that Haymitch winces.

Even Peeta doesn't buy it. "You're such a bad liar, Katniss. I don't know how you've survived this long."

My face burns at his words. "I survived The Hunger Games so I've obviously been doing something right."

A quiet laugh escapes him. "Nice to hear that you haven't changed."

And just like that my anger is gone and I'm left with this odd feeling of needing to be with him once again.

"Katniss, I have to go," he says, his voice no longer happy. "I've been on for a little too long."

"Okay," I say, sure my own voice has lost its light.

"Don't forget to stay safe, Katniss."

I bite my lip to keep from saying anything stupid. "No promises."

The line is quiet for a few seconds and I'm afraid that he's left. It only saddens me more when he finds his voice once again, dreading the moment I'll have to let go. "No promises. Goodbye, Katniss."

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _The book was my best friend during this chapter. I'm still not over the fact that Bonnie and Twill, as well as all of Katniss and Peeta's bonding, were left out of the film. Bonnie and Twill were such a significant part of the book and I was so excited to see it played out on screen. The disappointment was unreal when I realized it wasn't happening. Also, for non-book readers, their bonding could have really helped understand the connection Katniss and Peeta grew to have. Anyway! I'd like to address some questions that I was happy to receive. (Don't ever be afraid to PM me guys!) Peeta was able to recognize Gale because of his and Katniss' highly publicized "romance," though Gale's face was not shown in the broadcast because the crime and punishment was the focus, not him. For all Peeta knows, she was just protecting one of her people and not necessarily someone close to her like Gale. Katniss doesn't ask of Gale immediately because she's just suffered a head injury and she's still trying to understand what happened to her, and the first things she's processing are what's taking place in the moment. Things have been rocky for the pair in this story, it's been months since she won the Games. Months that there has been distance between them and that they've grown apart. We all know how prideful Gale is and getting rejected the way he did really hit him where it hurt. It caused strain on their relationship and that is how they got into their current situation. I hope that helps! Now, I'm sad to inform you guys that my next update won't be for another week since I'm about to be swamped with work starting tomorrow and I don't know when I'll be able to fit in time to revise and upload the next chapter. Feel free to PM me with any questions, I'll respond as soon as I can! Until next time loves._

With love, Daisy


	12. Aligned

**Peeta**

Closing my door softly, I lock my door and grab an old towel to put at the base of my door. My parents are asleep and Rye went to stay the night with his girl. The towel is my best bet to muffle my voice if I happen to get too loud.

Haymitch called me two days ago to tell me that he would be giving Katniss my contact. It's been four days since I spoke to her, and in the two days it took for Haymitch to cave Katniss had almost gone mad. Haymitch tells me that after a fall from a tree that night we spoke she had bruised her tailbone and nearly broke her left heel. She's been restricted to the confines of her bedroom and he heard her hollering obscenities at her mother not even two days after.

After a visit and subsequent assessment, he decided that she needed someone _other_ than an Everdeen to keep her company. And he certainly wasn't going to be the one to do it. His initial thought was Madge Undersee, but they could only talk so much before the quiet girls ran out of things to discuss, especially since Madge was the only one who could supply conversational topics.

When Haymitch informed me of my new role, I thought it was the best news I'd heard since Haymitch told me that she was okay after her whipping. He only let me know after he was able to tamper with her phone in the way he did to his so the calls wouldn't be traced or recorded. Katniss would get the news once he dropped by to visit and give her the option today. I could only hope that she was at least somewhat as excited as I was.

I sit on my bed and open the drawer beside my bed. I make sure it's at its highest battery capacity and place the headpiece I'll use to talk to her on the table. I'm antsy as I wait, staring the device down, begging for it to light up at any moment. Of course, I was warned that Katniss may not even be interested. I've prepared for that occasion with a three-day-old cookie I stored in my drawer this morning.

My neck is stiff and I'm just about to give up when the screen of my device lights up. I jump to put the headpiece on and adjust it, ensuring it's on and connected to the device before I answer. I know my breathing is a little heavy but I can't control it. There's a long pause before Katniss finally breaks the silence, "Peeta?"

I sigh. "Katniss."

"This works," she says in awe, almost more of a question than a statement.

"It does," I say, humoring her. I can't help the smile that's settled itself onto my face. I'm talking to Katniss. Districts and thousands of miles away. This is all I'd dreamed of since I moved to this District. "I didn't think you'd call."

The small smile that is surely on her face can be heard through her voice. "I didn't think I would either."

A small laugh escapes me. "Still as blunt as ever."

Katniss is silent for a moment, her voice quiet when she returns. "I almost didn't think you'd answer."

"Why?" I ask, my heart twisting at her words.

Again, Katniss takes her time. I can almost hear her brain churning to find the right words. "I didn't think you'd want to talk to me."

I laugh and my hands fly up quickly to cover my mouth. "Katniss, I love to talk to you."

"Most people would rather not," she points out.

"They just don't know how to appreciate good conversation." I correct, much to her amusement.

"You must be socially deprived." Katniss quips. I'd give anything to see her face right now, in this moment. I never knew I could feel this way about someone. But here Katniss is, making it happen. If only she felt the same.

"You won't ever have to worry about me not answering your calls," I tell her.

She sighs through the phone and I bite my lip. There's obviously something on her mind. "I was surprised you wanted to speak to me when I was with Haymitch."

"Why would I not want to speak with you, Katniss?" I try to think of any reason why Katniss would care that I'd be potentially upset with her. But there is none.

Her voice is so quiet I nearly miss her words. "Because of the Harvest Festival."

These words bring me to a halt. My mind takes me back to every segment from the Capitol I stayed up watching. How many times I was forced to see their kiss replayed on screen. It was like torture that I couldn't pull myself away from. I don't know why it hurt me so much. It might not have even been the first time.

"How have you been?"

Without her needing to speak a word, I can tell that it is not what she wants to talk about. "I'm fine."

I can't help it when I roll my eyes. "Bruised tailbone, broken heel, and all?"

"It's not broken!" she stubbornly interjects. I have to withhold a chuckle.

"No, I guess it's not." I muse. "But it still can't feel too good. Hasn't your mother told you to stop climbing trees."

"Weren't you the one who told me not to trust an old drunk?" she asks. I can almost picture the scowl on her face.

"Oh, come on. I'm sure he's told you some of my secrets." I say. "I do, in fact, have a pair of blue drawers. You caught me."

I know I've got her again. This time blushing. " _Peeta_."

"No, really. Tell me how you've been." I beg.

I hear a shuffle on her end and smile at the thought that she's gotten comfortable. "Prim and my mother won't let me leave the house for weeks. Even after that I'll have one of them attached at my hip if I ever do leave, even if it's just to Madge's. I think the thought of that bothers me even more than my injuries. They'll heal and go away. Their stubbornness won't. I'm just sore and I can't walk on it. That's all."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say genuinely. "I hate to say that I agree on their sentencing you to bed rest. First your head and now this? Or what, would you rather your boyfriend take care of you?" I'd nearly forgotten about Gale and their kiss. Are they letting him visit?

I don't expect Katniss to respond immediately but I also don't expect the pregnant pause that ensues. "I don't have a boyfriend."

My cheeks are on fire. What did she mean that she didn't have a boyfriend? "But Gale. . ."

"Gale is just my friend." she says curtly.

With a sigh, I try to reason with her. "Katniss, you don't have to keep it from me. You know everyone saw you two together at the Harvest Festival—"

"I _said_ he's not my boyfriend!" Katniss bursts. "He's not. We just kissed and that was all."

For some reason her addressing their kiss wounds me even more than the actual act did. I don't even know what to say. "I-I just thought that..."

"Well don't," she says. I'm too afraid to say anything else. I'm almost certain she's going to end it when she surprises me by speaking once again. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Now I'm confused again. "It's okay, Katniss. You don't have to be afraid to hurt my feelings. You had your own life back in Twelve. It shouldn't have had to change."

"I'm not," she says quickly. "I just wanted you to know that. And I'm sure you have a girl of your own back home. I bet they're just pining after you."

My eyebrows must disappear into my hair. "What? Katniss, no."

"You won't hurt my feelings." Katniss says, mirroring my own concerns. "It was just one kiss."

"Katniss. . ." I trail, her voice sounds distant. Almost detached. "If I would've known five years ago that I'd get to talk to you across the distance of our Districts, I would've been the happiest boy alive."

I realize too late the intensity of what I've said and I can feel the tension blossom through the phone. "We didn't even know each other."

Taking a deep breath, I decide I can't keep her in the dark of my feelings anymore. If she doesn't know it now, I can't keep hiding it from her. Sure, we'd kissed. But that didn't have to mean anything to either of us. It just happened to mean everything to me. "No, we didn't. And I beat myself up over that every single day."

"What?" she asks, but it's so soft I'm sure the word tumbled out of her lips without her consent. Nonetheless, she doesn't try to add anything on to it.

"Our first day of school. You were in a red plaid dress and your hair was in two braids instead of one. That day we had a music assembly and the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song," Katniss tries to say something but I continue. "Your hand shot straight up and she stood you up on a stool. I had already noticed you that morning, my father had pointed you out as the child whose father married the woman he intended to marry. When the birds fell silent at your voice, I. . ." Suddenly my words are stuck in my throat and it's hard to get anything out.

"You what?" she asks softly. I had never heard her use such a gentle tone. Not since she watched Rue die before her eyes at the hands of Marvel in the Games.

I take a deep breath and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes tightly. I can't believe I'm going to tell her this. "I was a goner. . . I have been ever since."

As expected, Katniss doesn't say a word. I wait for the click that will tell me she's finally hung up. Written me out of her life forever. I expect it more than I expect the word that meets my ear. "No."

"No?" I ask, stunned.

"No, you didn't- _don't_ ," she stumbles. "Haymitch was lying."

"Haymitch? Haymitch was lying about what?" I'm running my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of what's happening. I just told Katniss how I feel for her. Well, not exactly, but she has to know what I meant. But what does _she_ mean?

"He said that you-that you loved me. But no, you don't. You can't. You're lying." Katniss is almost hysterical and I don't know what to do.

The grip I have on the back of my neck is sure to leave a mark. "I thought I made him promise not to tell you anything."

"No. No, no. You're supposed to tell me that he was lying. Tell me not to listen to an old drunk." she says.

For once, I can't think of any words to say. Nothing feels right. I hold back a sigh, pressing a hand to my forehead. "We both know that would be a lie, Katniss," I say softly.

Her breathing is so loud that I can make it out clearly on my end. My own heart is racing but I have no idea how to make sense of her reaction. It's denial for sure. . . but why?

"Katniss?" I ask quietly.

I hear a sharp intake of breath and she's back. "You can't. It's not possible. I won't allow it."

"You won't allow it?" I'd say she was being ridiculous if she didn't sound so serious.

"I won't allow it. Not you, not anyone. I won't put anyone else in danger." she says, her voice hard.

I'm shocked. "Katniss, no one should be afraid to care for you. No one. And if they do, they don't deserve to."

"I have to go." she finally says abruptly. With those words, I finally hear the click of the line that tells me she's gone.

* * *

 **Katniss**

I tear the headpiece off and throw it on the floor beside my bed. I stare at it, willing it to explain the events that just took place. Did Peeta just confirm his feelings for me? Had Haymitch been telling the truth all along?

With a snarl, I slowly get up and pick up the headpiece. After making it to my dresser, I shove it into a drawer along with the stupid device and stomp my way back to my bed, much to the rejection of my tailbone and heel.

Once I make it back into bed, I pull the blankets up to my chin and clothes my eyes tight. It doesn't matter if Peeta likes me. I doesn't matter if I kissed him. It doesn't matter if I might like him too. Snow kills everyone you love.

I'm so lost in these thoughts that I don't notice Prim has entered into my room until I feel the bed sink beneath me. I'm so startled that I accidentally move onto my tailbone the wrong way and tears riddle my eyes.

"Katniss, is everything okay? Mom's asleep but it sounded like you were distressed. Did you need me?" she asks, her eyes so full of concern.

I reach for her hand and clutch it tightly in mine, pulling her into bed with me. "I'm okay little duck."

A smile slowly makes its way onto her face and my eyes narrow. "Who were you talking to?"

"Prim!" I gasp, pushing away from her and watching her try to stifle a grin.

"I was going to come check up on you but I thought I heard you talking to yourself so I waited for you to finish but you didn't. It sounded like you were talking to someone. Who was it?" she asks, her eyes shining with interest.

"You know better than to eavesdrop," I say, still shocked by her actions. Has she done this before?

Prim lowers her eyes for a moment and I feel genuine sadness radiate off of my little sister. "I couldn't help listening. You never tell me anything anymore."

"Oh, Prim," I whisper, pulling her close and hugging her tight. The last time I hugged her was when I got back from my Tour. "I'm sorry."

She squeezes me tight and pulls away. "I know you have your nightmares Katniss but you don't have to face them alone. We used to tell each other everything. Why should we let the Games change that?"

The Games changed everything. I smile at her slight innocence. She's nowhere near as innocent as before she was reaped but she's still got it in her. I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear and smile. "I've missed you."

Prim relaxes into my side and settles in. "I've missed you too, Katniss."

My hand goes to her soft hair and I run my hands through it, cursing myself for putting so much distance between us. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, strands of her hair slipping through my fingers in the process, "I'm still here for you. I just also want to take care of you, like you have for me. You don't have to be afraid. We're not going anywhere."

I lean forward and kiss her forehead. "When did you get so big?"

Prim and I sit in a comfortable silence for so long that I'm sure she's fallen asleep. I'm just beginning to doze off myself when she stirs. "Who was that on the phone?"

"What?" I ask, sleep out of the window.

"On the phone. Mom wanted to take it out but I insisted that the only calls you ever got were from Cinna. I don't think that was Cinna." she says, her wide eyes telling me that she had been awake the whole time.

"Prim—"

"Just tell me this one thing," Prim pleads.

I swallow thickly, contemplating what could happen if I told her. Prim has always kept my secrets. But could this hurt her? I sneak a glance and see her watching me intently, trying her best to read my thoughts. _Could_ I get caught? What would happen if I got caught? I still can't believe that I agreed to it. What would happen to Peeta if we got caught? I've been so selfish in my need to speak to him that I haven't even thought of the danger it puts him in. That's it. I won't do it anymore. It won't hurt Prim to tell her. It's in the past now.

Prim feels the shift in me. "So?"

I brace myself for her onslaught of questions. "It was a boy."

"A _what_?" she shrieks, her quiet voice piercing my ears.

"Shh," I urge. "Yes, a boy."

I know she's excited at this news. Not even thinking about the how, just the- "Who?"

My teeth tug on the inside of my cheek. I don't want to say too much but I haven't seen her act like a little girl in so long. I've pushed her away for too long. "His name is Peeta Mellark."

"Peeta Mellark?" she says, her nose wrinkling. "Who is that?"

The threads of my blanket are becoming increasingly interesting. Prim has to tap my hands to bring me back. "He lives in Eight."

Prim's eyes nearly fall out of her eyes she's so shocked. I can almost see her mind reeling. "Eight? You like a boy from Eight? How—"

"I don't like him," I say, my cheeks flaming. I never thought I would discuss boys with Prim. Unless it was coming from her. "I used to know him when we were kids, that's all."

I can tell Prim wants to argue with me but she wouldn't risk ending this conversation. "Okay . . . but he loves you?"

"No, Prim," I sigh. "You can't love someone you barely know. We haven't seen each other since we were kids. Before he moved away."

She nods her head slowly, obviously not paying my words too much attention. "Katniss?"

"Primrose," I say back.

"Why'd you push him away?" she asks quietly. Her eyes are trained on mine so fiercely that I'm caught off guard.

"It was a mistake getting close to him." I answer simply. At least, that's how it should've been. Instead the words get stuck in my throat and they work against me.

"You don't have to protect anyone. Not us, not him. If he's willing to be there for you, it's for a reason. You don't really want to push him away," she says. "So don't. What do you think you're doing?"

I can't hold her gaze any longer. Instead I close my eyes and think. I think of my family, of the Hawthorne's, and of Peeta. I can still save Peeta. I want to save Peeta. But I don't want to let him go. "I don't know, Prim. I don't know."

"I do," Prim says without missing a beat. I meet her gaze and she smiles sadly. "Stop being so stubborn. You do know. You just don't want to admit it."

* * *

 **A/N** ~ _Guess who it is?! I've missed you guys. Thank you for being so patient while I find my place in this story and deal with the demands of life._

 _In addition, I've also been adding some chapters between Chapter 11 and what was supposed to be Chapter 12. I was so unhappy with my writing and decided to give you guys some more between 11 and the old 12. This fic was intended to be short and sweet but all 50 of you people have inspired me to give it even more depth. I honestly intended it to be almost like a diary of sorts. I have so many story ideas in my head that I want to write but I just don't have it in me to keep them to myself. I decided to release Spark to just get it out of my head all while a handful of you got on this journey with me. I did not expect so many of you to find something in this like I have. I am so grateful for each and every one of you and I hope that you continue to follow this story, me, and future projects.I have roughly 15-20 stories that I've culminated over eight years and less than ten have seen the eyes of readers. If you guys are interested in learning more, please PM me._

 _Regarding this story, expect to see more frequent updates. I've finally caught myself up and put myself in a space that I am entirely happy and comfortable in. I plan to update this once a week and if you're ever ready for an update, please don't ever be afraid to PM me and heckle me all you want. ALL questions and comments are welcomed, so please PM me! I don't bite and I love talking to you guys. I'll scramble on now, I hope you guys like this update and find as much happiness in this chapter and the next few as I have. Thank you._

With love, Daisy


End file.
